


Neighbourly Love

by treasurethelittlethings



Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Mental Health Issues, Neighbours, Neighbours to Lovers, Romance, Smut, but I'm guessing you already got that from the title lol, but like the tiniest bit ever, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:01:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 113,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26063131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treasurethelittlethings/pseuds/treasurethelittlethings
Summary: Jamie's happy to carry on with the way his life is currently.A beautiful home, a job he loves, great family and friends around him. And yeah, maybes his Mam and sister do keep badgering him about finding true love - but he's happy with the way everything is right now.That is until a gorgeous woman moves into the cottage next door to his...
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 1606
Kudos: 808





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> All copyright and characters belong to Diana Gabaldon and the Outlander Universe she has created.

The cottage next door to Jamie had been up to rent for three weeks now. 

It was uncommon for these types of houses to come up on the market – what with it being close to both the city center and the countryside. The buildings themselves were originally built as miner’s cottages, as homes for the men who worked on the old coal-mining site. 

The cottages were small in stature – as cottages usually are – with a quaint garden at the back. Inside, a lot of the old stone brickwork could be seen throughout, a reminder of just how old they were. Inside, the cottages were larger than first thought, especially the downstairs area. The kitchen greeted you first upon entering the front door, then through to the living room and then the backdoor leading out onto the garden. The stairs on the left hand side lead upstairs, where a large bedroom and separate bathroom stood. 

Jamie loved living there. Although the cottage was still small, it was bigger than the previous place he had called home. Moving from above a corner shop into the cottage had felt like moving into a castle – with so much extra space to move about in. 

The picturesque street he now lived on had always seemed to call to a part of his heart. He would pass by it daily on his commute to work, walking by it and daydreaming about the people’s lives that lived within those walls. On the bus he would sit down, staring out the windows and think about how the cottage would look like inside if it was his. 

Which wall he’d put the TV on – not the one opposite the garden facing window, there would be too much glare and he wouldn’t be able to watch the football or the rugby properly. In which corner of the room would his bookshelf go? Perhaps there might even be enough room that he might be able to purchase a second bookshelf to help with the overflowing stack of books on the floor beside his bed. The garden – oh, the garden! He could just imagine an outdoor dining table set up in the summer, complete with large overhead parasol so as to not let the beaming sun rays burn his delicate Scottish skin. A paddling pool, perhaps, for wee Jamie and his newborn sister to play in. Even the different varieties of plants and flowers he could grow, maybe he would start growing a rose bush, like the one that his mother so tenderly grew back at home.

That’s the key thing that sold the cottages to Jamie. The fact that every time he passed by, he got a pang of nostalgia in his heart. The cottages reminded him of his childhood home higher in the Scottish highlands, Lallybroch. 

When eventually cottage number 8 came up on the market, Jamie immediately put down an offer – no ifs ands buts about it. It didn’t matter to him that he fell slightly short of the asking price, what mattered was that deep down in his soul he knew that cottage was meant for him. 

The estate agent rang him back to arrange a viewing, and upon meeting could clearly see how passionate Jamie was about the place, that they accepted his lower offer – and within a month he was all moved in. 

At the time his neighbour next door at number 7, was an elderly man named John. The two men had been cordial to each other, what with them being neighbours and all, and because their homes and therefore their gardens connected to one another. But eventually they bonded over the sunflowers Jamie noticed growing in John’s garden. With his newfound freedom and space, Jamie decorated the cottage exactly as he had always dreamed while sitting on the bus staring into nothingness. The garden was the last to get done. What with him moving in the middle of the summer, the grass and flowers from the previous owner were causing havoc, growing in a tangled mess of weeds. 

John and he had begun talking about the strangely warm summer they were having in Scotland that year. From then on the conversation had lead into where Jamie had moved from and the garden that he eventually wanted to whip back into shape. John had offered his insight as to which plants Jamie might find best to grow, things that wouldn’t take up top much of his free time, and would still continue to thrive in the coming autumn and winter. 

Cottage number 7 came up for rent, when John passed away from old age. Jamie was sad to see John go. He attended John’s funeral to give his condolences, donated to the charity set up in John’s name, and passed along a sympathy card to the man’s family. 

Number 7 stood like an empty, bare shell while people came to view inside of it, the walls just waiting for somebody to snatch it up and make the place homely once more. 

When the time came that the cottage right beside Jamie’s eventually found its new tenant and was taken off the market, Jamie himself was actually out of town. 

The first week in August was his father Brian’s birthday, and this year in particular was a special one – the big 50. Jamie’s mother had organized in secret a little family get together to celebrate. 

At their annual family Easter gathering, conversation turned to upcoming events, and Brian had loudly expressed that he did not want a fuss made of his upcoming birthday in the August, no matter the fact that it was a special number. He simply wanted some nice food making and, if they were free, perhaps the kids could come round to say hello. 

But in true Ellen Fraser fashion, Jamie’s mother wouldn’t hear a word of it. She wanted to spoil her husband on his birthday, and so she would, by hosting him a surprise family meal. Ellen instructed Jamie, his sister Jenny, Jenny’s husband Ian and the bairns to be inside the house at Lallybroch at 11am sharp, no sooner and no later. 

Not wanting to get a cuff around the ear courtesy of his mother, Jamie set off promptly from his home – taking into account any delays that might be on the motorway. 

That weekend was spent, as usual, with his parents, sister, brother-in-law, niece and nephew. Jamie had taken both the Friday and the Monday off work, so no emails to check awaited him in his email inbox. He had free time to spend catching up with his mother and her newfound love of cross-stitching. To spend time with Jenny and her chaotic baking skills – seriously, just adding a bit of flour here and a pinch of baking soda there, were not exact measurements. What did eyeball it even mean, Jenny?

The Saturday was for sitting on the sofa with dad, both of them shouting obscenities at the referee who was completely in the wrong, giving a red card for nothing – the lad didn’t even touch his opponent for Christ’s sake! And don’t even go there about the penalty and extra time awarded at the end of the match. 

At the age of 4, Wee Jamie was just as football mad as the rest of the men in his family. And so any extra time of Jamie’s that wasn’t spent either eating or sleeping, was spent in the grassy fields behind the house kicking around a well-weathered football with younger Jamie, Ian and his dad. They put jumpers down on two opposite ends of the field, to replicate goal posts with Ian and Brian on one team and the two Jamie’s on the other. 

From the dining room table where Ellen and Jenny sat in companionable silence - one of them cross-stitching, the other writing down dinner recipes - shouts could be heard, yells of victory and foul coming through the wide-open windows. The sounds even intrigued 2-year-old Maggie, who looked up from her Minnie Mouse tea set. 

Before the lads knew it the wooden antique clock on the hallway chimed 6 o’clock, and Ellen stuck her head out of the backdoor to call them in for their dinner. Sundays always meant two things; one, the family coming round to visit and two, a roast dinner with all the trimmings. No matter the weather outside, a Sunday roast dinner was always needed. The table was laded with everything you could want; succulent white chicken meat cooked and carved perfectly, roast potatoes crunchy on the outside and fluffy in the middle, mashed potatoes smooth without lumps and full of butter. A platter of vegetables; carrots, cabbage and broccoli with a knob of butter melting fast on the top. The best part was the plate piled high with Yorkshire puddings, all golden brown and homemade, using Jamie’s great grandmother’s recipe. The gravy jug sat right next to the plate, waiting to be drizzled on last and coat everything in its wake. 

The Frasers and the Murrays sat down to devour the hot meal, silence filling the room except for the noise of knives and forks scraping on plates. 

“So. Any special ladies in ye life, my lad?” His mother asked Jamie, nonchalantly taking a sip of her water like she hadn’t just asked a fully loaded question. 

Jamie choked on his chicken in response. 

“Special ladies?” Jenny laughed, pounding her brother on his back with her fist to dislodge the food. It only made him cough louder.

“Ye know… any dates?” 

“Dates!?” That just made Jenny laugh even more.

“Well, I don’t know, ye never really tell mention anything of the sort Jamie.” Ellen refilled his glass of water from the water jug sitting beside her left arm, nudging it toward him to get him to take a drink. 

With a few careful sips of water, the spluttering stopped and Jamie could take deep breaths again, while wiping at his watery eyes with the napkin sitting on his lap. 

“A never say anything, because they isn’t anybody to talk aboot,” Jamie answered, spearing a broccoli stem onto his fork and placing it in his mouth.

“What about that lass? Erm.. What’s her name?” His mother said.

Jamie shrugged his shoulders, “Dinna ken who ye’re on aboot.”

Ellen clicked her fingers and moved her wrist in a ‘come on’ motion, as if that would help her remember the name of the person in question. 

“Jenny? Ye ken who am on aboot, don’t ye? She was short, a tiny frail little thing with light brown hair. I saw her on Jamie’s Facebook?”

“Ye mean Mary MacNab, Mam.” Jenny said, spooning mash potato into a Yorkshire pudding, squishing it all together to make a sandwich and then sinking her teeth into it. 

“Aye, Mary. Whatever happened to her, son?”

“Jamie told me she was too forward,” Jenny said, turning her head to the side to look at him, and answering Mam’s question. 

“Too forward?” Brian asked. 

“That’s the last time I tell ye anything, Jenny,” Jamie hissed to his sister and then back to his parents. “Aye, way too forward. Talking about when she wanted to get married and where and how many bairns she wanted, all on the first date. Wouldn’t even be surprised if she already had all the poor bairns names picked oot.” 

“Sounds like ye were just a scaredy cat.” Jenny smirked, enjoying this too much for Jamie’s liking. 

Jamie glared daggers at her. 

“Jenny. Stop teasing ye brother.” Their dad chastised. 

“Well, has their been anybody else?” Ellen tried once more. 

Instead of answering, Jamie just shook his head no. 

“Do ye want me to set ye up? Ye ken Mrs Fitzgibbons? The woman I worked alongside for the church bake sale at Christmas? Anyway, she told me that her granddaughter Laoghaire had taken a shine to ye.” 

Jenny stifled a laugh into her drink, seeing Jamie out of the corner of her eye look like he wanted the group to open up and suck him in. 

“Wait, ye mean Laoghaire Mackenzie?” Ian, who had sat silently eating his Sunday dinner, piped in. 

“Aye her. The blonde-haired lass. Do ye remember her, Jamie?”

“Ye cannit set the two of them up! Laoghaire’s only just turned 19 – she’s seven years younger than our Jamie. Practically still a bairn.” Ian said, shaking his head.

“Absolutely no way Mam, don’t even think aboot it.” Jamie protested. “I remember her well enough. Following me around like a lost puppy, always trying to get in my way. Ian’s right, she’s but still a bairn, she can find somebody her own age.” 

“But…” Ellen opened her mouth to say something else. 

“Drop it, Ellen.” Brian placed his hand over his wife’s and raised his black eyebrows at her. “Leave the poor lad be. He’ll find somebody when the time is right. Beside, our Jamie here needs a woman, not a girl, and by the sounds of it this Laoghaire is most definitely still a girl.” 

Jamie nodded his thanks to his dad and prayed that was the end of his mother’s so called matching making service. 

On the Monday afternoon goodbyes were said and hugs given out, as the family members parted ways once more. No matter how old he became, Jamie still got a twinge in his heart when he said goodbye to his parents and sister. They always had been and always would be a tight-knit family. 

“Be good for ye Mam, won’t ye Wee Jamie?” Jamie said to his nephew, while ruffling his light brown hair.

“Aye, it’s no him I’ve got to watch oot for. It’s little Miss over there,” Jenny nodded her head toward Maggie, who was propped up on her dad’s hip. 

Jamie laughed, tickling the little girl’s bare foot and making her erupt into screams of laughter. 

There was one last round of hugs to be had and Ellen leant up slightly to wrap her arms around her son’s neck for what must be the fifth time. “I hope ye weren’t upset after dinner yesterday,” she whispered in his ear. “I only say it because I love ye, and I hate the thought of ye going back to an empty house.”

Jamie returned his Mam’s hug, strong muscular arms squeezing around her body tightly. “I ken ye mean well, Mam. But it’s alright. I’m happy as I am right now.”

“Well, that’s all I can ask, isn’t it,” she pecked a kiss onto the side of his face, and then stood back to look into her son’s clear blue eyes. “Safe journey me lad.”

“I’ll text ye all when I get home safely. Love ye” Jamie promised, as he got into the car, a chorus of ‘love ye too’ repeated back to him. With his safety belt on and one more wave bye - he was off. 

It was a week before Jamie even realised that the ‘for rent’ sign outside of number 7, had disappeared. Because of the time off he had taken, he was behind in his workload for his friend Angus’ whiskey company at which he worked, and it seemed to take him an age to catch up again. There were meetings to be scheduled and attended to, clients and suppliers to ring, boring paperwork to be read over and signed. 

It had only been a short while since he’d made the journey back from Lallybroch to his cottage, and yet Jamie was exhausted. On the plus side, at least he got to work from home today – which meant a longer lunch break at whatever time he chose and numerous cups of tea. He thought about sitting outside, at his new outdoor dining table set, but it was too warm. He hadn’t gotten round to ordering a parasol for it yet, and so not only would his skin burn – thank you fair Scottish skin and red hair – but he also wouldn’t be able to see his phone or computer screen properly because of the glare from the sun. 

It was while he was waiting for the kettle to boil that Jamie peered outside the front window and realised the ‘for rent’ sign missing. He supposed that the cottage must have been scooped up and taken off the market when he had been at Lallybroch, and that was almost two weeks ago now, so surely the tenant must be moved in.

Jamie deducted that in his sleep deprived, all guns blazing, work, work, work mode, he must have missed his new next-door neighbour. As he poured the boiling water over the teabag in his ‘Best Uncle’ mug, Jamie vowed to introduce himself to the mystery neighbour whenever he got the chance.

Lunch had, workload done – mostly – and innumerable amounts of tea consumed, Jamie was considering an icy cold shower. 

The temperature outside had slowly been climbing every hour, till it reached its current peak at 22 degrees. Something that was basically unheard of in Scotland. Jamie wasn’t cut out for the heat, after all he was a Scottish man born and raised. He had tried to cool himself down by drinking glasses of freezing cold water inbetween his tea breaks, but nothing seemed to help. The backdoor and windows, too, had been open all day to let in any welcome breeze, but so far they were no extra help either. 

Standing from his makeshift office – a stool up against his kitchen counter on which his laptop lay – Jamie closed his laptop lid and stretched, hearing all the joints in his back and hips pop. Draining the last dregs from his mug, he placed the cup in the dishwasher to be cleaned later and trekked up the stairs for his shower. 

Stepping into the bathroom and bending over the shower tray to turn the shower on, Jamie realised that all his clean towels were on his bed, fresh from the dryer and just waiting to be folded and put away. 

With water running and said fresh clean white cotton towel in hand, Jamie walked past his bedroom window, glancing out of it as he did so to see his garden and the neighbouring gardens below. He looked once and looked again; doing a double take to make sure he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing.

A bikini-clad woman occupied the garden of number 7.

The woman laid on what appeared to be a hot pink sun lounger, a black bikini the only thing covering her, and sunglasses perched on her nose as she read from the paperback book in her hand. 

These thoughts registered in Jamie’s head all at once. But the main thing that he kept coming back to was that this woman was clad in a bikini. Just a bikini.

It was very hard to tell from his angle, but Jamie could make out a toned body made up of creamy skin that would soon turn slightly golden brown after sitting in the sun all day. 

God, he was thinking about this too much. 

He knew he should look away. He felt like a peeping tom for God’s sakes, but the tightness that had started in his shorts told him otherwise, as he perused over her body once more.

A woman sitting in the garden of number 7, so that probably meant she was his new neighbour then, right?

Or perhaps she was just visiting a friend who lived there? Or perhaps she had moved in with a romantic partner? Or perhaps…

Get ye heed together, Jamie, he told himself. Stop bloody looking at her like that. She’s in her garden; she can do whatever she wants. Just stop looking at her. 

Tearing his eyesight away from her, and running his hand through his hair, Jamie closed his eyes and exhaled harshly. The tent that was now happening in his shorts was not helping the matter whatsoever.

Shaking his head, he walked back into the bathroom. A cold shower was definitely needed now, just for other reasons than the warm summer weather outside.


	2. Chapter Two

Claire had finally had enough of sleeping in Geillis’ spare bedroom. 

The rhythmic thump thump thump sounds coming from the bedroom next door to where Claire slept, could be heard with the telly turned on loud. Not even the theme tune to the Great British Bake Off could drown those two out, going at it like wild animals in heat.

With a large sigh Claire turned the volume up a notch more, slid her eye mask down her face and pulled the duvet cover up and over her head – please dear God let her fall asleep quickly. 

Breakfast the next morning was an awkward affair. Not for Claire or Geillis. Oh no, they had been in this situation before – namely for the past three months. No, instead it was awkward for the poor fellow who had been Geillis’ playmate for the night. The lad (and lad he was, compared to Geillis’ age of 27) had clearly not known there was anybody else in the house other than the woman he was shagging. The bright red look on his face when he came down the stairs and saw two women eating breakfast in their pajamas, was enough to make Claire grin into her coco pops. 

Ever the gracious host, Geillis said goodbye to the lad at the door, thanking him for a lovely night and then waving him away before he could get a word in edgeways. 

“Where did you find that one?” Claire asked her best friend, when Geillis sat back down at the kitchen breakfast bar. 

“Harry’s bar. Ye ken the one past The Beehive pub?” Geillis said, pouring Claire and then herself another cup of coffee. 

“Mhmm.” Claire hummed, nodding her thanks at the steaming hot drink put down in front of her. 

“Canna believe I forget to tell ye! I got ID’d from the bouncer at the door! Me, Claire! I wasna even that dressed up. Anyways, so I walked in and straight up to the bartender to order a Dirty Martini…”

“With an extra olive,” Claire recited Geillis standard drink order before her friend could even get the words out. Geillis laughed at Claire, rolling her eyes and smiling. 

“Always. What else would I even get? So I paid the bartender and then... What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I think it might be best it I moved out.” Claire forced the words out of her mouth before she lost the courage to do so. 

The ticking of the clock on the wall besides the fridge seemed to double in volume while the silence between the two women seemed to drag on for ages. Claire eventually pulled her eyesight from the swirling liquid of her coffee to look up at Geillis, who sat there blinking, her brow furrowed. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Geillis spoke. “Move out? Why on earth would you want to do that for?”

Claire shrugged. “I just feel like it’s time. I mean, come on, you need your privacy – obviously with the rotation of men I find in our kitchen,”

Geillis chuckled to herself at that, smirking. 

“And I’ve always lived with somebody. First, Mum and Dad and then Uncle Lamb, Frank and now you. It might be nice to live by myself for a bit. See what it’s like, you know?” Under the table, Claire worried at a piece of the thread that had come loose from her pajama bottoms. Geillis put her hand over Claire’s, stopping her picking at the thread any further. 

“If you think that’s what’s best for ye, then ye do it, my hen. I’ll help ye find someplace fabulous. And then if ye find ye dinna like it, that spare room will always have ye name on it, I promise.” 

Claire blew out a deep breath, eyes filling up with tears, and she squeezed Geillis’ hand back as hard as she could. 

It wasn’t always meant to be this way, and if somebody had asked Claire five years ago where she’d be, she’d never in a million years say sitting in a friend’s kitchen in Scotland.

After her parent’s fatal death when she was 8, her dad’s brother, Uncle Lamb, had taken her in. He had cared for her, loved her, and nurtured her as best as he knew how. She had spent most of her days at school, while Uncle Lamb was at work either on the archaeological dig sites or working in his office at home, perusing over artifacts and old memorabilia. Sometimes, Uncle Lamb would be called away to different parts of the world to help other archaeologists with their work, and instead of leaving Claire in the care of a nanny – he would take her with him. 

Together the two of them travelled all over the world, filling up their passports with stamps upon stamps; Australia, Russia, Greece, Italy, South Africa, Sweden, France – the list went on and on. 

In each new place, Claire learnt something different. The people were usually helpful and kind, full of stories about themselves and their country.

From a young age, Claire had been interested in herbs and their purposes and as she got older, her interest developed into medicine. The people in these countries had various ways of using herbs and practicing medicine, and as they taught her, Claire wrote the different methods into a notebook – to use in the future when they might be needed and the time was right. 

At the age of 20, Claire met Frank. She had been attending Oxford University at the time, working on her dream of becoming a doctor of medicine, when Frank walked into her life. He was teaching a seminar about the daily lives of people that fought in World War II, a class that Claire took to attending, just for her own morbid curiosity more than anything.

Their eyes had met when Claire walked into the room, and she could still remember the way his eyes followed her, as she picked her way across the tables to find an empty chair. At the end of the class, Claire had dawdled – taking her time to put away her pens, paper and water bottle. At last, when she straightened up, they were the only two people left in the room. Taking the initiative, Frank asked her out on a dinner date for that coming weekend. Claire could still recall how giddy with excitement she had felt when she left the classroom that day. 

Claire graduated from Oxford University with honours and afterwards the two of them moved into a two-bedroom house not far from where Uncle Lamb lived. She worked at the John Radcliffe Hospital training alongside other doctors and, at 24, trained alongside other students in the surgeon’s department. Frank continued to work as a history professor. Spending most of his time either teaching at Oxford or commuting on the train into London to teach at King’s College London. 

The two of them had been happy together for 8 solid years. Together over the time they spent with one another, they developed a routine that ran like a well-oiled machine. They devoted the weekdays to working and the evenings for socializing - mainly with Frank’s co-workers. Frank was popular with students and teachers alike and often had invites to join his fellow teachers for a tipple down the local pub. On the nights Claire wasn’t working a hospital shift or on call, Frank would bring her along for the friendly festivities. It gave Claire a fuzzy feeling to get dressed up in attire nicer than her usual work scrubs and then be showed off to Frank’s co-workers. It made her feel wanted and special – her blood running hot through her veins. 

A few drinks later, with her face a lovely blush colour, Frank would place his hand higher up her thigh and nuzzle his face in the place behind her ear. Goodbyes said quickly, the couple would be off like a shot – rolling into bed together before their clothes were even fully off. 

Claire tried her hardest to still make time to see Uncle Lamb. Frank hadn’t grown up being very close to either of his parents and so didn’t visit them, even when he had the time too. In most cases, Claire visited Uncle Lamb by herself, with Frank pleading that he had so many papers to grade and emails to reply to. 

When they’d first started dating, Frank would jump at the chance to visit Uncle Lamb with her. The three of them would sit in the house Claire had grown up in, drinking tea, a platter of Claire’s favourite Jammie Dodger biscuits sitting in front of her – bought and placed out just for her enjoyment. 

Uncle Lamb had never told Claire his actual feelings towards Frank. The day Claire told her uncle about dating Frank, Lamb told his niece that he trusted her judgment 100%, and when could he meet the man who had stolen Claire’s heart? But on the few occasions Frank joined the Beauchamps, sitting talking about a topic of his choice, Claire had an idea that Lamb wasn’t really paying her boyfriend any heed whatsoever. He was simply nodding in all the right places.

Six years into their relationship, Frank proposed. It had been the weekend after Easter, when he booked them a table for two at a new fancy restaurant in the heart of London. After dessert, Frank had gotten down on to one knee, offering Claire a silver diamond cushion shaped engagement ring. Claire said ‘yes’, standing up to hug her fiancé, while the rest of the restaurant clapped their congratulations. Even the waiter brought out complimentary champagne to celebrate. In all honesty, when Claire thought back to that moment now, she felt embarrassed. The entire scene, with people everywhere, hadn’t ever really been her thing – and she would much more have appreciated an intimate celebration just between the two of them. 

The straw that broke the camel’s back came in the form of the Scottish isles. 

Frank had been offered a job placement at Edinburgh University. The placement was to last a full school year and included a fully furnished flat to live in. He and Claire decided to give it a try, and set the ball in motion to sort out a list of things, before they moved further up the country. Claire applied for a referral for the hospital in Scotland, and although she was sad to be leaving her group of workmates, excitement pulled at her. 

The buzzing feeling reminded Claire of being younger. A time when she travelled to faraway places, never knowing how it would be when she got there, but knowing adventure would take place. She felt the same way now. Like she stood on the brink of something. 

Getting rid of their current house was the other major item to tick off their list. All of their furniture was to be donated to charity shops, and a small portion of their earthly possessions were to be packed up to fit inside Frank’s car, which they would drive up north to their new home. Frank didn’t really believe in items having sentimental value, but Claire had a few pieces that she wanted to keep safe. Uncle Lamb had kept her bedroom the same to when she lived under his roof and had told her, very plainly, that anything she didn’t want to take up with her to Scotland would be kept safely in her room. 

Claire took him up on his offer, choosing to leave some family heirlooms, books, and clothes. 

The honeymoon period lasted all of two months. At first, it was bliss.

Living in Scotland was a completely different experience to living in Oxford. The accents were different; the weather was worse, and the skyline wasn’t filled with high-rise buildings, instead it was filled with green rolling hills as far as the eye could see. 

Frank made it quite clear from day one that he was not a fan of living there. “I mean, darling. They don’t even speak proper English. It’s all just a jumble of words and slang.”

Claire, however, loved it. The rainy weather made staying indoors cozy and there was nothing like breathing in cold crisp highland air, instead of the fume-filled city air. She would admit that she’d struggled a bit with the accents in the beginning, but the locals had been nothing but helpful, repeating words that she didn’t catch the first time. They were all that more friendly – even to a Sassenach. The hospital staff too had been beyond welcoming, especially the surgeon department where Claire would spend the majority of her working time. 

A woman named Geillis had been one of the first people to introduce herself on Claire’s first day at the hospital. Geillis was trained to be a surgeon’s assistant, and so Claire and herself would probably work in close quarters with one another. They ate lunch together in the staff room that day, while Claire explained about moving to Scotland for her fiancé’s job and how in love with Scotland she already was. 

“Aye, everybody says that at first. Dinna think ye’ll be saying that when it continues to rain all year round.” Geillis laughed. 

Within a week, Geillis and Claire became the best of friends. They had not much in common, other than their shared love for botany and medicine, but it was the way Geillis made Claire feel that sealed the deal. She brought out a fun, flirty side of Claire that Claire hadn’t felt since she was in her early twenties. 

It had been a Friday afternoon when the argument began. 

Geillis had told Claire to go home and get dressed up; she was taking Claire out for food and drinks at the pub, with promises of moving onto one of the clubs later on. After a long week at work, Claire jumped at the chance – elated to get home, choose her outfit and makeup and then dance the night away with her best friend. 

Running up the stairs to their flat, handbag banging off her side, Claire turned her key in the lock, a massive smile upon her face. 

“What’s got you so smiley, darling?” Frank asked, sitting in his usual spot on the sofa, with a pile of papers besides him. 

“Geillis invited me out for some drinks,” Claire said, bending down to give her fiancé a hello kiss. 

“Again?” Frank pulled back from the kiss to look up at Claire’s face. 

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” answered Claire, shedding her coat and toeing off her shoes. 

“You went out last weekend, Claire. And then to make matters worse, you two got so ridiculously smashed that the taxi man wouldn’t take you home and I had to come and pick you both up.” 

Claire straightened up to face Frank. “And?” 

“It was embarrassing, Claire. Having to pick you up in that state, all the while having other men leer and shout at you.” Frank shook his head. 

Claire’s hackles were well and truly raised now. “I was having a fun night with my friend, Frank. It’s not my fault a group of men were yelling. How do you even know it was because of me?” 

“It was obvious they directed it at you, Claire, what with the way you were dressed.”

“The way I was dressed?” Claire scoffed, hands placed on her hips. “The way I dress had absolutely nothing to do with it.”

Frank sneered at her, “You looked like a slag Claire.”

“A slag? Did you just call me a slag?” 

“Yeah, I did. I won’t have my fiancée going around like that. Your behaviour was a disgrace.”

Claire was shouting by now, “Just because of the way a woman dresses or acts doesn’t make her a slag, Frank.”

Frank shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t want you going out tonight.”

“You don’t want me going out? I actually can’t believe what I’m hearing Frank.”

“Yes, that’s what I said. I don’t want you going out. Especially not with that Geillis woman, she’s becoming a bad influence on you, Claire.”

“A bad influence!” Claire laughed, manically. “You’ve got your knickers in a twist because I’ve found a new friend and I’d rather spend my time with her instead of with your uppity co-workers!”

“Uppity?!” Claire heard Frank shout as she stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door. She slumped against the closed door, trying to regulate her breathing and lower her blood pressure. Claire’s thoughts were all over the place, but one thing was for sure, Frank’s opinion wouldn’t stop her going out tonight and having a damn good time.

Dressed up to the nines and ready to go, Claire booked a taxi and walked through the living room to the front door. Hanging onto the doorframe, she turned over her left shoulder – to see Frank still sitting in the same spot, this time with a history documentary on the tv and a glass of brandy on the coffee table. 

“Goodbye, Frank.” She called. He didn’t bother to reply. 

The argument lasted until the Sunday morning, both Claire and Frank too stubborn to have the first word. In the end it was Frank who spoke up – standing putting a piece of bread in the toaster, he turned to face Claire at the table. 

“I can’t do this anymore, Claire.” 

Those were the six words that turned Claire’s world upside down. 

She had a vague idea what he was implying, but asked anyway, “can’t do what anymore?”

“This. Us.” He waved his hands about, gesturing to everything around them. “Since we moved here, and you started at that hospital… I don’t know who you are anymore.”

“Don’t know who I am anymore? What are you on about, Frank?” She pushed her breakfast plate away and stood up. 

“Exactly what I’ve said. You’re out with that Geillis woman all the time, drinking and shopping. You come home, say hello, and then you’re off again. We don’t go out together anymore. You don’t even really try, Claire.”

“Stop trying to turn this all on me! Why it always about me? What about the fact that you’ve stopped trying too!?”

Frank didn’t even answer; he just shook his head sadly. He pursed his lips, “I think it might be best if you leave, Claire.”

Claire gave him a sharp nod, tears blurring her vision, and she walked through the front door and down the stairs. She wasn’t at all sure where she was even going, but somehow her feet took her to the nearest park. Sinking down onto the first bench she spotted, Claire focused her eyes upon the treetops moving in the wind, while the tears poured silently down her face. Muscle memory had her pulling out her phone and ringing the only person she could in this situation; Geillis. 

Geillis had wrapped her up in a bear hug, grabbed her hand and placed her in the car like a newborn child. Strapping Claire in – who was just staring into nothingness – Geillis checked her own safety belt and then set off for home. 

Once there, she sat Claire on the sofa, made a strong cup of tea for both of them and managed to coax the story out of her best friend. 

“He’s a prick, that’s what he is, hen. Ye can stay in my spare room.” That was the only thing Geillis had to say about the situation. 

So that was how Claire came to living in Geillis’ spare bedroom. Even now when Claire looked back, she couldn’t believe that her 9-year-old relationship had fell apart so quickly, at the drop of a hat. She’d never heard anything more from Frank, which hurt her even more – it was like she’d never been special to him, even though they’d been engaged. That day Geillis had come to her rescue, Claire had fell asleep on the sofa after telling her everything. When she came to again, she found that Geillis had been pretty busy. 

She’d driven round to Claire’s old flat, knocked on the door and proceeded to pack up all and any of Claire’s clothes and possessions. Geillis had then placed them neatly in boxes in a corner of the spare room, hoovered and dusted Claire’s new bedroom and put fresh sheets on the bed. 

Seeing this, Claire burst into tears once more. 

“Come on hen, nee more crying,” Geillis scooped her up in another hug. “Ye’ll love it here. Best friends living together – it’ll be like we’re 17 again.” 

In the end of it all, it was Geillis who found the cottage that would become Claire’s. A viewing was arranged as soon as possible, and upon first look Claire knew. This was the one. Deposit put down, and first month of rent paid in advance – the next step was finding furniture. The flat she moved into with Frank had been fully furnished, and everything else belonged to Geillis – who sternly told Claire that Claire could take whatever she wanted. Claire disagreed, with the winning argument that she still would be round Geillis’ house, and if she took the sofa where on earth would they sit and watch car crash tv? 

A trip to the local Sunday morning car boot sale was made, and in a stroke of good luck, Claire found mainly everything she needed and all for a bargain. The only two items she didn’t have were a bed or a sofa, but she could order those online and get them delivered. In the meantime, Geillis had offered the use of her blow up mattress for Claire to sleep on until the bed arrived. 

Sunday night was as Geillis so lovingly put it ‘Claire and Geillis’ last big piss up except not really… the last piss up of us living together,’ (the name was still clearly a work in progress). 

“Why don’t we just call it our last sleepover?” Claire suggested. 

“Because ye ken as well as I do, that’s no true. We’ll still be having sleepovers when we’re married and old.” Geillis winked at her. 

“Cheers to that.” Claire held up her wineglass. 

“Cheers!” Geillis clinked her wineglass to Claire’s, the white wine (with a lemonade top) sloshing all over. 

Monday morning both women had an 8-hour shift at the hospital. As usual, afterwards, they hopped into Geillis’ car exhausted and dead on their feet. But this time Geillis took a left instead of a right, dropping Claire off at her new official home. 

“Promise me we’ll still be best friends?” Claire asked, turning to look at Geillis in the driving seat. 

Geillis laughed loudly. “Of course we will, ye eejit. Ye cannit get rid of me now, ye’re stuck with me.” 

That made Claire smile. “Thank you. And thank you for dropping me off.” 

“Nee bother, hen. Love ye.” 

“Love you too. Night.” 

Claire used her new set of keys to let herself in, waving over her shoulder to Geillis. Once she’d made sure Claire was in her home, Geillis sped off with Claire locking the door behind herself.

On autopilot, Claire lugged herself up the stairs and into the shower – using some of the new lemon shower gel that Geillis had included in her ‘new home’ hamper gift. 

Stepping out of the warm spray, wrapping a fluffy towel around her body and spreading a thick amount of Soap and Glory body lotion on – Claire finally had the time to think. 

Everything around her was still so unbelievable. It had only been five months ago since she was packing up most of her life and moving with Frank, feeling like she was on the cusp of an adventure. And an adventure it had been. Now she was single (for the first time in… forever), had a best friend she knew she could count on, and a house that was fully her own – well, it was a cottage, but still! It was all hers, even down to the milk in the fridge. 

Which reminded her, she really needed to buy some groceries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, i just want to thank everybody so much for the ever growing support! i'm blown away by it all! <3
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this second chapter! I know it includes a lot of Frank and no Jamie... but i think Claire's backstory is so important. I promise they'll meet soon and i won't test your patience for too long ;) I don't have a set schedule for posting, just whenever I'm finished writing, rereading and editing. 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments make my day!! Honestly - i really love chatting to you all. 
> 
> If you fancy having more of a chat, come follow me on my tumblr. I'm the same username there as i am here. 
> 
> Xoxo


	3. Chapter Three

The brunette bikini-clad woman had been playing on Jamie’s mind for the past three days. 

Jamie had tried his hardest not to think about her. After all, she was a stranger, his new neighbour and young women to boot. She probably wouldn’t take too kindly to Jamie leering all over her body. 

He’d had never been that type of man before. His mother had raised him well, teaching him to respect everybody, especially women. Never leer or catcall. Always be careful of other’s boundaries. And consent is key, no means no. 

His mother always said, “Treat others how you want to be treated, Jamie.” 

And if that didn’t work, Jenny had threatened numerous times to kick her wee brother in his balls, if he didn’t behave correctly. 

So he’d tried to get her out of his head, by carrying on with his normal life, but his mind had a life of its own. 

He would sit down in the office, steaming cup of tea in front of him, phone in hand while he listened to the awful hold music. Staring down at the wood grain markings on his desk, the same tune playing over and over in his ear – his mind would wander over to her. 

How had he missed somebody like her moving in? Why was she living alone? What did she do for a living? 

“Thank you for waiting patiently, Mr Fraser… Hello? Mr Fraser, are you still there?” 

The voice on the other end of the phone line jarred him out of his train of thoughts, and Jamie scrabbled to answer. 

“Aye, I’m here. Sorry aboot that zoned oot for a bit.”

“Not a problem happens to the best of us. So, as I was saying beforehand…”

Cooking dinner than night, pot full of water to boil his carrots, he found himself focusing onto the simmering water. 

Did her family live nearby? How old was she? What was her name?

This time it was the timer, dinging on the oven to signal the chicken was cooked that jolted him from his thoughts   
“Seriously, get ye heed oot ye arse, Fraser,” Jamie said aloud to himself, pulling on his oven mitts. 

“This is getting ridiculous, man.” Jamie thought to himself, as he was getting ready for bed.

He’d fancied other women before. His dad still brought up the way Jamie and Ian had been when they were teenagers – either they were fighting, playing football, eating or lusting after girls. Or, in his Godfather Murtaugh’s much cruder words, “Just finding their cocks.” 

Jamie was familiar with that feeling of pure lust. Like his own skin was too hot and too tight for his body, and he would die if he didn’t find something to do about the fire coursing through his veins. At times like these, his only longtime girlfriend, Annalise, cropped up in his mind. They dated from when they had been 18, till they were both 22, and Jamie knew that if it had been up to Annalise, the two of them would still be together now. 

Jamie had been smitten from the first moment he laid his eyes upon Annalise. Egged on by the groups of lads around him at the time, he struck up a conversation with her – managing to just get her mobile number before her friend dragged her away. Jamie waited a few days, (so she didn’t see how eager he was) and then asked her out on a date. 

Annalise had been fun and bubbly. She was always up for a laugh and ready to jump into some spontaneous activity. And all of these things had been great in the beginning, when they were both so young and only starting to find themselves. When neither of them were exactly sure of the qualities they looked for in a partner. But as time passed, and birthdays came and went, Jamie found himself growing slightly tired of Annalise. His interests and hobbies seemed to be becoming different from hers. To be truthful to himself, he was getting sick of her constant want to party, and be around random people who bitched and backstabbed one another. He would much have preferred to come home and relax with her after a hard day’s work. 

In all honesty, sex had become one of the primary drives behind their relationship. Or maybes it always had been, and he had been to lust driven to see it. The sex served its purpose, providing the release that both of them needed and also providing a sense of intimacy that Jamie wasn’t sure he was ready to let go of. 

Deep down though, he knew that it was purely selfish reasons that kept him tethered to Annalise. Biting the bullet, Jamie eventually plucked up the courage to end the relationship. 

It definitely helped that Ian had kept telling him to find his balls and get it over with. 

Now, three years later, Jamie was pretty familiar with the same lusty feeling thrumming through his veins again. 

Sleep pulling at him, Jamie decided that the next free chance he had, he would introduce himself to the woman living at number 7. After all, it was just simple curiosity, and kindness to make himself known to her… right?

As it happens, the fates had to have been listening to his late night thoughts. The next morning, standing at the kitchen counter making the first cup of tea of the day, Jamie peeped outside his front window to check on the ever-changing Scottish weather. Jamie heard the music coming from inside the car before he saw the car pull up. Abba blared out from the speakers and the open car window, as the driver hit the curb outside of number 5 and skidded down to a stop outside of number 7.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the infamous sunbathing woman locking her front door and making her way toward the car that sat on the road. It would’ve been hard not to miss her. Her brown hair had been pulled up into a ponytail, presumably to keep it out of her face. But instead the wind had other ideas, blowing the strands all around. She had no coat on, due to the warmer weather, and so her bright blue scrubs were on full display – indicting to Jamie that she either worked at the hospital or she cared for the elderly. Whichever job she did, both were commendable, but Jamie thought it a shame that the boxy scrubs swallowed the figure that the bikini had enhanced. 

His eyes travelled from the handbag on her shoulder, down to her legs – following her movements as she opened the car door and climbed inside. 

For a brief moment, Jamie wondered about whom might be driving the car. Maybe she had a partner after all? But whoever it was, none of it was any of his business and so before he could deep dive into that thought, Jamie tore his eyes away from the car, picking up his now lukewarm cup of tea and walking through to his living room. 

Jamie’s day carried on in its usual way. Angus had given him another day to work from home, but only ‘if he actually got the work done and didn’t just spend his fucking about on his computer’- Angus’ words, not Jamie’s. 

At around 3 in the afternoon, there was a knock upon his front door. Jamie stood up from his makeshift office, feeling confused. He hadn’t been expecting anybody, his mam and dad or Jenny and Ian would have called before they popped round to see him. The gas and electricity board had only been round about a month ago to give him an estimate for his monthly bill, so it couldn’t be them. He never really got anything delivered to the cottage, unless it was a takeaway, so it had to be one of the other neighbours that needed his help, or somebody trying to sell him something. 

Opening the front door, the sight of a man holding a coloured parcel greeted Jamie – behind him stood a still running Hermes delivery van. 

“Hiya mate. Ye couldn’t do me a massive favour, could ye?” The delivery driver asked. 

“Depends on what the favour is,” Jamie answered, leaning up against the doorframe. 

“Ye neighbour ordered something or other, but I’ve knocked on the door and there isn’t anybody in. Think ye could take it?”

Being the Good Samaritan, Jamie was, he nodded. “Aye, go on then. Whose it for?” 

The Hermes deliveryman looked down at the parcel in his hand, “It’s for a Miss Claire Beauchamp. Beecham? I dinny ken how ye pronounce it… sounds French to me.” 

Jamie shook his head, “I dinny ken a Claire Beecham.”

“Says here she lives at number 7. Will ye take it or no?” 

Number 7.  
Claire.   
Claire Beauchamp

“Aye, aye. I’ll take it. I’ll make sure she gets it, pass it over.” Jamie straightened up and reached out to take her, no Claire’s, parcel. 

“Cheers, mate.” The delivery driver said his thanks, turning back around to get in the van. Jamie didn’t even really hear him; he was too busy looking down at the parcel in his hand. 

So she had a name. Miss Claire Beauchamp. Beecham? However you bloody pronounced it, Jamie didn’t care – all he cared about was that he could now put a name to the brunette, sunbathing, blue scrub wearing woman that had moved in next door. 

Jamie became aware he hadn’t yet shut his front door, because he was too preoccupied thinking about Claire. Locking it behind him, he placed the parcel onto the kitchen counter and bit his lip while he thought about the situation he found himself in. 

Claire’s parcel appeared to be from a company called Missguided, which, if Jamie remembered correctly from the telly advert, sold mainly clothing items. Maybe they’d had a sale on and she had treated herself to something nice, or maybes the items inside were to be worn for a special occasion that she had coming up. Jamie’s mind conjured an image of her standing in her bedroom, in front of the mirror. Taking the new dress from its plastic wrapping, she would shimmy the dress past her long lean legs till it covered her lace… 

“My God, snap oot of it!” He said to himself, gripping his hair tightly beneath his fingers to try ground himself into the present moment and not down the rabbit hole of Claire’s underwear. 

Whatever was in the package, it shouldn’t matter to Jamie. He really needed to get back to finishing up work and clear his head. 

That was easier said than done. The parcel sat on the kitchen counter right beside Jamie as he typed away at his laptop. Over and over again, he would sit back in his chair, harmlessly glance over at the package, and then check the time on his apple watch. 4 o’clock. And then 5pm. 

5:45 pm, and Claire’s cottage was still dark, no lights on to be seen.

Like déjà vu, at 7 o’clock Jamie was in the exact same spot in the kitchen, cleaning his plate after he’d finished his dinner – when the exact same car that Claire had gotten into this morning, pulled up outside of number 7 again. He heard the car door slam shut and helped by the streetlight; Jamie could just make out Claire’s silhouette as she walked toward her door. 

Weighting up his options – grab the parcel and run out now before she even got in the cottage, or wait a bit – Jamie decided to wait for 10 minutes or so. That should just be enough time for her to settle in after a long work shift, and also enough time so that Jamie didn’t look like he’d been waiting all day for her return. 

He dried his plate, put it back into the cupboard, downed the glass of water beside the sink and then in the hallway mirror besides the stairs, checked to see if there was any food in his teeth. Happy with the lack of food between his gums, Jamie picked up the parcel from the worktop, shoved his feet into a pair of flip-flops that he used to take the bins out in and made his way to Claire’s front door. 

He knocked on the door rhythmically as he stood back to wait for her to open it, noticing through her kitchen window, the vase of fresh flowers that sat on the windowsill. 

The door opened, and Jamie became face to face with a bare-footed, Miss Claire Beauchamp for the first time. 

She had changed out of her work clothes and into a dark blue pair of yoga leggings and a white camisole, which highlighted her tan from sitting in the garden. Her hair was down from its ponytail and loose around her face, sitting in a slightly wavy fashion that Jamie hadn’t noticed before. 

“Hello. Can I help?” Claire asked. 

She’s English – was Jamie’s first thought. God help me, she’s gorgeous – was his second. 

“I’m Jamie Fraser, I live next door to ye. They tried to deliver a parcel for ye today, but ye weren’t in, so I took if for ye.” Jamie held up the parcel for her to see. 

Claire’s face lit up into a smile. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you, Mr Fraser.” 

She leaned forward a tad to grab her parcel from his outstretched hand, and Jamie hoped she didn’t notice when he jumped from the warmth of her hand compared to his cold one. 

Jamie laughed to distract from his jittery nerves, “Me dad’s Mr Fraser, I’m just Jamie.”

“Well thank you, Jamie,”

Jamie thought he might hyperventilate at the sound of her saying his first name, the way it rolled off her tongue like she’d said it a thousand times before. 

“I’m Claire Beauchamp. But I’m guessing you already know that because it says it right here on my parcel,” now it was her turn to laugh. And my god, what a laugh it was.

“Aye.” Jamie smiled, “Me and the delivery driver were taking guesses at pronouncing ye last name.”

Claire shook her head, her smile still overtaking her face. “Oh, god. The teachers used to do the same thing when I was a kid. It’s spelled the French way, but I always grew up saying Beecham.” 

“Either way, I’m glad I could get ye parcel to ye.” 

“Thank you, again. So, which one do you live at?” Claire gestured outside to the neat row of cottages.

“Number 8.” 

Claire nodded her understanding. 

“Well, goodnight Claire. See…”

“Do you want to…”

Both of them spoke at once and then chucked when their words crashed together into a jumble. 

“Ye first. What were ye going to say?” Jamie said. 

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come in for a cup of tea? Just to say thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just couldn't resist the cliffhanger haha - sorry! 
> 
> So, any guesses on what Jamie will say? Will he agree? Or will he decline? Lemme know your thoughts. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!! Kudos and comments make my week - so come chat with me in the comments. 
> 
> I'm always always always up for a chat so come follow my tumblr - treasurethelittlethings - and talk to me <3
> 
> xoxo


	4. Chapter Four

Why, oh why, did he have to be so damn fit?

Claire’s day at the hospital had felt like it was never ending. There were two new patients admitted into her department, which needed appointments to talk about their upcoming surgeries. There were four patients that had had their surgeries and were in their hospital rooms waiting to be checked upon and then hopefully discharged. A bunch of paperwork had been piling up for about a week now, so that too needed handling, and Mrs Graham was at it again.

Mrs Graham was an older lady that had originally been scheduled in for two knee replacements. On the day of her surgery, Dr Christie had checked her over and found the beginnings of a kidney infection. Because of said infection, the surgery couldn’t go ahead, and the doctors decided it would be best for her to stay in hospital while they treated her ailment. 

Mrs Graham had been cleared of her kidney infection two days ago, and so her knee replacement was re-scheduled for a day’s time. During her stay in the hospital, the old lady had spent her time telling the doctors and nurses anything and everything about her life. It was sweet really, but after an endless day – Claire was rather sick of hearing the same story over and over about the woman’s Jack Russell, Poppy.

On a brighter note, Geillis’ working schedule had lined up with Claire’s and so instead of walking to work, Claire had hitched a lift with her best friend. That also meant a lift home, and Claire couldn’t stop a bubble of excitement from fizzing in her stomach. After the first tough three hours of her shift, Claire had begun to picture what she was going to do when she eventually got home. 

Getting her scrubs off would be the first item on her list. Chuck them in the wash ready for the next day, throw on her comfiest pair of yoga pants and top and then get started on dinner. Actually… she might treat herself, and order in a Chinese and then vegetate on her new sofa, catching up on the new BBC crime drama that she’d missed last night. 

If she didn’t devote all her time to the telly, she might just have time for a bubble bath before bed – with a glass of wine in hand if she was feeling cheeky. 

Claire had painstakingly planned her evening, but hadn’t accounted for a handsome Scot standing on her front doorstep. 

He’d introduced himself as Jamie Fraser, her next-door neighbour, and then explained that he’d kindly taken in the parcel she had missed while she’d been at work. They’d had a laugh, and Claire couldn’t stop herself from asking him if she wanted to come in for a cup of tea. 

“Why did I just say that?” Claire thought as soon as the words had left her mouth. Now he was going to think she was strange. A strange, lonely woman who invited anybody and everybody into her house. God, he probably thought she invited all sorts of men into her home all the time. 

Jamie paused, the words he was going to say forgotten in his shock. 

“Erm…?” He said, ineloquently summing up the situation. 

“You don’t have to say yes. In fact, you know what, you’ve probably got much more important things to do than sit around with me. A girlfriend to visit or work to get to, It’s quite alright.” Claire babbled, closing the door a couple of inches or so. 

“No no, I’m free. No busy at all. Aye, I’d love a cuppa.”

“Are you sure? Come on in, then,” Claire opened the door again fully, and tilted her head to show Jamie in. As he stepped over the threshold, his shoulder brushed against her chest and Claire held her breath. 

Letting her breath out as she closed the door, Claire put the feeling down to just a fluke – surely it wouldn’t happen again. Except it did, when she turned around to see Jamie in her kitchen. Height wise, he was easily 6’3, and his body was obviously strong and well cared for. He was muscly in all the right places, with arms like that, which made her mouth water. Because of this, his entire presence seemed to take up the small room in the kitchen. 

To break the silence that deafened around them, Claire asked, “What would you like? I’ve got tea, coffee, water, wine?” 

“Just a cup of tea would be grand,” Jamie said. 

“Coming right up. Have a seat on the sofa and I’ll bring it in.” 

Jamie smiled and nodded, making his way into the living room. Claire went about flicking the switch on the kettle, grabbing two mugs out of the mug cupboard and placing tea bags into their respective cups. She was pouring the boiling water before she realised that she’d never asked him how he took his tea. 

She poked her head through the living room doorway, to find Jamie standing up and looking through the books on her Ikea Billy bookshelves. 

“How do you take your tea?”

From where she was standing, Claire visibly saw Jamie jump, and he heard her voice. Turning the top half of his body, Jamie put a hand to his heart and looked a bit sheepish.

“Jesus, I didn’t even hear you come in. Promise I wasn’t prying,” he gestured to the bookcases, “Just interested is all.” 

Claire laughed, “Don’t worry about it. So, tea?” 

“Oh, just one sugar, please.” 

Back in the kitchen, Claire added a teaspoon of sugar to Jamie’s mug (none for her) and then fetched the milk from the fridge. She poured a normal amount into Jamie’s and a larger slug into her own, squeezed the tea bags against the sides of the mugs to get the last of the tea out, and then transferred the tea bags to the bin. One last stir of the liquid in the mugs, and she was picking them up, one in either hand, as she walked back into her living room. 

Jamie had sat down now, and so Claire placed his mug in front of him and then placed her own next to his – while she took her side of the sofa that he wasn’t occupying. Sitting down, she noticed the same thing that had happened in the kitchen was happening again on the sofa. Where Jamie went, his presence seemed to take up the whole room, making everything else so small compared to him. 

“Thanks for the tea,” Jamie lifted his mug, and took a small sip of the scalding liquid within. 

Watching the way he cradled the mug, Claire noticed how large his hand was compared to it. 

Pulling it away from his lips, Jamie quirked his brow at the slogan written upon the mug, “I’m not bossy, I just have better ideas,” he read aloud.

Claire sputtered into her own cup, and then rolled her eyes, “It’s a housewarming gift from my best friend, Geillis. She’s obsessed with slogan mugs and anything that embarrasses me, apparently. Although, she tried to make it up to me by buying me a vase of flowers.”

Jamie couldn’t stop from the smile overtaking his face. 

“How did you two meet?” He asked.

“Oh, just at work. We only met a handful of months ago, when I moved up here.” 

“I was wondering what a Sassenach like yourself was doing in this part of the country. Where about did you move from?” 

“I moved from Oxfordshire.”

“Ooooh, a proper posh English woman,” Jamie teased. 

That made Claire chuckle. “Yes, yes. I know. Don’t worry, I get that every day at work. I had to keep asking people to repeat themselves for the first couple of weeks.” 

At that Jamie laughed, “I’m sure you did. Where do you work?” 

“At the hospital. I’m a surgeon.” Claire said, proudly. 

If it was possible, Jamie’s smile got broader, “God, wow. That’s amazing, Claire!” 

“Thank you. I love it - that’s where I met Geillis, actually.” 

“Really? Did you always know that’s what you wanted to do? Or was it just something you fell into?”

Talking about her job, forever filled Claire with passion and she let the words pour out, “It was always something I knew I was meant to do. I guess I had a knack for it, ever since I was a little girl.”

“So, I’m guessing you moved up here for the job, then?” Jamie asked. 

Claire thought about her answer for a moment and then said, “Yep. Got a job offer, I couldn’t refuse.” There was no way at all that she was about to tell his gorgeous man about her issues with Frank. “What about you? How do you make your living?”

“I work at a whisky distillery just across town. It was me friend, Angus, who had the idea and once he got the ball rolling, he asked if I wanted shares in the company. I said aye, thinking it would be easy as cake, not realising how much actual work I would have to do. The amount of unread emails I have would be enough to send somebody into shock, I tell ye.” Jamie explained, while sipping at his drink. 

“Sounds interesting. How very Scottish of you,” Claire joked. 

“Aye I know. Scottish man born and raised, and I wouldna have it any other way.” 

Nodding thoughtfully, Claire said, “You and your Scots always say that. I do have to say; that I didn’t actually know how beautiful Scotland was till I arrived here. I mean, yes, Oxfordshire is still beautiful, but still, there’s something about seeing all this greenery right on your doorstep.” 

“Aye.” Jamie said in understanding. “Tis a bonny place, that’s for sure. Have you lived up here long, then?”

“No, no. Five months or thereabout. I lived in… well basically a hotel for a bit and then the last three months were spent in Geillis’ spare room.” 

Claire prayed that her voice didn’t betray her while she spoke about her past circumstances, and also that Jamie wouldn’t ask her to explain herself. Thankfully, he didn’t. Instead, he said nothing and placed his empty teacup down onto the coffee table. Claire felt the sofa become lighter and compress back into shape as Jamie stood up. He skirted around the glass coffee table, and bent his head somewhat, to peer at the small selection of picture frames that Claire had placed on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. 

From behind him, Claire had ample opportunity to stare a bit longer at the figure Jamie cut. His dark green t-shirt clung to the top half of his body, showing off the broadness of his taught shoulders. As he moved his left hand to push his hair out of his eyes, Claire’s eyes tracked his movement. First, noticing that when he moved his arms, the tightness of his shirt also enhanced the clear-cut lines of his back muscles. For a moment, Claire’s mind wandered to how he managed to get those muscles. Maybes he frequently used the row machine? Or the gym in general? Perhaps he went for a daily run? He could even be a swimmer in his spare time, with a back like that. 

The second thing she noticed was his hair. The bright red locks sat messily on top of his head, some pieces at the back mussed from where he must have run his hands throughout his hair during the day. Claire suspected he needed a well overdue haircut – something that his mother probably said all the time – but that Claire herself quite liked. 

His jeans were last. Dark denim blue, that looked like it had been put through the washing machine quite a few times, and also hugged his long, long, long legs. 

Claire had always thought herself the type of woman that never went for scruffy (but in the best way) men. Frank had always been so uptight about his appearance. Haircut booked in like clockwork every two weeks, always cleanly shaved right down to the grain, and a suit on for work five days a week. The suit itself was usually black or dark blue, pressed and steamed within an inch of its life, not a crease to be seen. On the weekends, Frank still chose to wear quite formal clothes – forgoing the tight-laced work tie for chinos and a golf shirt. Claire had never seen Frank in any type of jogger or jeans even when they started dating, not even an old pair hung up in the back of his wardrobe forgotten – and that continued well into their relationship. 

Worrying that Jamie would be able to feel her eyes burning into the back of his head, Claire too stood up – mug still clasped in her hands – to see which photo he was looking at now. 

One photo frame held a picture of Claire in between her two parents, at the seaside, when she must have been around four. In the photo, she was hitched onto her father’s hip with a bucket held up proudly clasped in her chunky wrist. Her mother’s arm was around her and snaking to reach her father’s waist. All three of them had toothy smiles upon their faces, Claire’s with a bottom tooth missing. Another held an old photo of Claire and her mother, Julia. Her dad must have been behind the camera as the two of them stood beside a river, with Julia bending down in the photo so she could wrap her arms around little Claire. Claire couldn’t recall that day, or the photo being taken – but she could remember the 101 Dalmatians shirt that she wore in the photo. It had been her favourite. 

Those were the only picture of her parents that Claire had gotten round to putting into photo frames. Frank had always called photo frames clutter, and he couldn’t abide clutter, so Claire had kept them safely in a memory box in the bottom of her wardrobe. Even now, any photos Claire had of her parents – either with her in, or without her in – were stored upstairs. Away from prying eyes, who might ask questions about her parents. One day, though, she would get around to celebrating her parent’s lives. 

The other main photographs on the mantelpiece held photos of Uncle Lamb. 

She and Uncle Lamb travelling through Greece. She and Uncle Lamb kneeling down in the dusty mud to excavate some long-lost relic. She and Uncle Lamb side by side, shoulder to shoulder, as they attended a birthday party for Lamb’s 60th last year. 

Each photo told a story of the two growing up together. Learning to be a rock for one another, when there was nobody else left.

The last space, on the left-hand side of the marble, held a photo of Claire and Geillis. 

Geillis had snapped it on her phone when they were squished together in a booth and partially tipsy after a few hours sitting in a bar, only two weeks ago. Frank and Claire had already split up when the picture was taken, and Claire herself could see how happy she looked. Her unruly hair seemed to shine more, her amber eyes twinkled with mischief, and her smile reached to both of her ears. Geillis had a matching expression on her face, with her blonde hair a sleek sheet behind her and her bright green eyes alight.

Standing this close to Jamie, Claire could smell a mixture of his clean deodorant and his aftershave and had to physically stop herself from taking in a large sniff. Instead, she settled for moving closer to him, so that their shoulders touched one another. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and for the second time that evening, she realised exactly how tall he was. Claire was by no means a small woman herself, being (the last time she checked) 5’10, and yet Jamie still towered over her. 

Pointing to the picture of herself and Geillis, Claire giggled, “Gosh, that was a good night. The smell of pink gin still makes me want to gag – god, the amounts of it we must have drank.” 

Then she burst out into a full laugh. “Oh… and then Geillis kept saying she wanted to do karaoke, even thought the bartender kept saying they didn’t do karaoke there. So, she just stood up and started belting Abba’s Dancing Queen at the top of her lungs.” 

Picturing the scene in his head, Jamie burst out laughing too. Turning his head to look at Claire, he asked, “Did you sing along with her? Or did you just let her go it solo?”

“Oh, no. I let her go solo for that one. And then once she’d finished, I started back up again with Fleetwood Mac’s You Can Go Your Own Way. The looks we got,” – Claire couldn’t stop laughing. “In the end, the waiter asked us to leave.” 

“Sounds like a good night,” Jamie said, eyebrow quirked. 

Claire nodded in agreement, taking a large gulp of her now lukewarm tea to try to and quell her laughter. 

Jamie pointed at the picture of her and Lamb. “So, if that Geillis. Whose this?”

“That’s my Uncle Lamb.” Claire explained, “His name’s Lambert, but that was a bit of a mouthful when I was young, so I always called him Uncle Lamb and it just stuck. The photos to the left are of my parents.” 

She attempted to get the words out of her mouth quickly but clearly, so that Jamie wouldn’t ask her to repeat herself and she could hide the pain that she still felt at her parent’s passing. 

He must have heard the catch in her throat though, for he turned his head to catch her eye in a questioning glance. Claire tried not to meet his eye, to just continue staring at the sea of pictures, but she could feel his open gaze. Doing the one thing Claire swore to herself she would never do, Claire turned to face Jamie head on – coming face to face with his piercing blue eyes stare. She waited for him to make a comment about the way she spoke, or the lack of photos of her parents compared to Uncle Lamb. 

But there was none of that. 

Jamie continued to just look at her, eyes searching her heart-shaped face, and then nodded slowly. 

“I think my favourite one’s gotta be you sitting on the stone elephant.” Jamie broke the quietness, and Claire jerked out of her downward spiral. 

A tiny smile played about her mouth, as she said, “That was taken at a zoo. Can’t for the life of me remember which one – but anyway, I do remember that Lamb tried to hold on to me so I wouldn’t fall. But I’d always been too independent, and it just annoyed me.” 

“Sounds like something my sister would have done. In fact, she did do it a handful of times. She would basically bully me and my friend Ian into dragging her along.”

Without meaning to, Claire snorted with laughter at the image. 

“She’d older than me than me by four years – so she always pulled the older sister card. And when I got older, she threatened daily to tell our parents about the trouble I was getting up to, if I didn’t include her.” Jamie explained. 

“Sounds like you’re close?” 

“Aye. It’s mostly the six of us. Me mam, me dad, me godfather Murtaugh, me, me sister Jenny and her husband Ian.” 

Claire watched Jamie’s whole face light up as he talked about the people close to him. 

Putting two and two together, Claire asked, “Ian? As in…”

“Aye, as in my best mate Ian. They started dating behind me back, and then when I found out, I broke Ian’s nose.” Jamie stated matter of factly. 

Again, a bubble of laughter made its way up Claire’s throat and out of her mouth. 

“I’m guessing you’ve all kissed and made up by now?”

“Oh, aye. Only because Jenny threatened to chop me balls off and never speak to me ever again if I didn’t stop going on about it.”

“She sounds like a right firecracker.” 

“Jenny’s definitely that all right. She’s lovely when you’re on her good side; but I pity anybody who gets on her bad side. Protective isn’t even the word for it. If its possible, she’s worse now she’s got two bairns of her own.” 

“How old are they?”

“Wee Jamie’s four, and Maggie’s turned two.”

“Wee Jamie?”

“Aye named after his favourite uncle. Well, his only uncle – but still, I’m definitely his favourite. We call him Wee Jamie, so that we can tell the difference between which of us Jenny is shouting for.” 

“Mhm, clever,” Claire agreed.  
A lull in conversation descended upon the two of them once more. Their shoulders still brushing together, Claire felt rather than saw, Jamie move his body to face her. Feeling his eyes bore into her hairline, Claire moved sharply away from him. She still held the mug in one and hand and with the other, picked up the mug that had been Jamie’s – it’s ceramic handle now freezing cold. 

Holding it up for him to see, she asked, “Do you want another?”

“Nah lass, but thank you. I really should be going, anyway. Got an early morning start and all.”

Claire nodded jerkily, and led him through the kitchen, back to the front door. Mugs dumped in the sink to be scrubbed later, Claire leant against the cold granite worktop. She held onto the edge of it, in case she didn’t something stupid – like get the urge to kiss the man’s cheek. 

Hand on the door handle, Jamie turned and said, “Thanks for a braw evening, Claire.” 

“Your welcome. Thank you again for taking in my parcel. See you around?”

“Aye. Don’t be a stranger – good night, lass.” With those last parting words, Jamie walked out into the night, closing the door gently behind him. 

Claire let go of a breath she didn’t even know she had been holding. Her entire body felt like she’d taken a shot of espresso – jittery, and almost as if an electric current raced through her body. In her mind, she replayed the way his body had felt when it had made contact with hers. The feeling of his hand when she reached to grab the parcel from him – soft on his palm and full of callus’ at his fingertips. The hardness of his arm muscle when they had stood together looking at photos, shoulder to shoulder…

From the living room, Claire’s phone chimed with an incoming text message – stopping Claire’s train of thought from going any further. 

Padding back into the living room, Claire was met with the scent of Jamie. Now that she was alone, she could inhale as much of the smell as she wanted without looking strange. Gosh, imagine if Geillis could see her now. Well, speaking of Geillis… 

Geillie [8:12pm] How’s the relaxing night going, hen?

Claire [8:14pm] Good, yeah. Actually… I just met my next-door neighbour. 

Geillie [8:15pm] Were they friendly to ye?

Claire [8:15pm] Yeah. It’s just a him. 

Geillie [8:15pm] It’s a man?

Claire [8:16pm] Yep.

Geillie [8:16pm] Was he fit?

Claire [8:16pm] Yep.

Geillie [8:17pm] NAME? PLS TELL ME YOU GOT HIS NAME CLAIRE

Claire [8:17pm] Jamie Fraser. 

Claire [8:20pm] Geillie? You still there?  
Geillie [8:22pm] ARE YOU SHITTING ME CLAIRE?

Geillie [8:22pm] JAMIE FRASER

Geillie [8:22pm] THIS FINE SPECIMEN OF A MAN IS YOUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR

Geillie [8:22pm] I’m moving in wth you 

Geillie [8:23pm] HOLY SHIT CLAIRE THE FUCKING ABS ON THS MAN

Geillis [8:23pm] !!!!!!!!

Claire [8:24pm] how on earth do you know what he looks like?

Claire [8:24pm] and what do you mean abs?

Geillie [8:25pm] instagram

Geillie [8:25pm] and facebook

Before Claire could even open either of the social media  
apps, her phone rang in her hang. 

“Hello?” Claire answered

It was Geillis. 

“You better tell me everything that happened!! And don’t  
you dare leave anything out, Claire Beauchamp!”

Claire spent the next 20 minutes regaling Geillis with  
everything that had happened from the moment that Mr  
James Fraser had knocked on her front door. Geillis spent  
an unusual amount of time not saying anything and then  
when she did speak, she asked, “So, do you think he had  
a girlfriend? Or a partner?”

Hearing Geillis’ question, Claire stopped to think and then  
said honestly, “I don’t know Geillie. I mean he never  
mentioned anything, but then again, I guess I didn’t really  
ask.”

“No, you didn’t. Instead, you spent the majority of your time  
looking at pictures and talking about anything but. Did he  
say anything?”

Claire knew what Geillis was asking. “Nope. I think he had  
an inkling something was up, but no, he never mentioned  
my parents.” 

“Aye, he probably saw your face go all stony and  
unapproachable.”

Claire scoffed, “My face does not do that.”

“Uh, yeah it does hen. I’ve gonna have to go – can’t  
believe I agreed to start work at 5am. What was I  
thinking? And why did you let me do it?”

“Because you love the job?” Claire suggested.

“Aye, something like that. Speak to you tomorrow – love  
ye.”

“Love you too,” Claire said back, and then hung up the  
phone.

Phone already in hand, Claire had an overwhelming  
impulse to put Jamie’s name into the Instagram search bar and see what came up. “No no no, Beauchamp,” she thought to herself. “Do not get sucked down into that rabbit hole. He’s your neighbour, for God’s sakes.”

A glass of white wine was in most definitely in order to calm her still shaky nerves. Dishwasher on, scrubs in the dryer ready for the morning – Claire poured herself a mug full of wine (buying wine glasses hadn’t been at the top of her agenda, so drinking it out of a mug would have to do) and ran upstairs. 

Once in the bathroom, she placed the mug of alcohol on the vanity beside the bath and set the hot and cold taps to run. Dolloping in a hefty amount of lavender bubble bath, she swirled her hand in the shallow bath water to create more bubbles – a lovely scent of calming lavender wafting up to reach her nose. 

While the bath was running, Claire picked up the book she was currently reading and plugged her phone in from the charger beside her bed, with the thought process that if she didn’t take the phone into the bathroom, she wouldn’t be tempted to snoop on Jamie. 

XxX

Stepping out of the now cold bath water, Claire used her extra time before bed, to slather on some Soap and Glory body lotion, take her time to apply face moisturiser, serum and lipbalm and slip into clean pajamas. She pulled the bedcovers back and crawled into bed, gulping back the last of her white wine, which, because of the steaming bathroom, had become more like warm white wine. 

Perhaps it was drowsiness, or perhaps (most likely) it was the wine, but Claire’s fingers seemed to have a mind of their own as they grasped her phone from her nightstand. Her right hand took on muscle memory as she put in her thumbprint, opened the Instagram app and typed in Jamie’s full name. 

His profile popped up straight away, and Claire was met with a variety of coloured squares. 

Photos of him with what must be his friends at a bar. Photos of his family, playing together in the garden and at dinner. Special occasions celebrated together; Christmas, birthdays, Easter. There was also a smattering of photos of him at the gym or hiking. Claire didn’t dare click to enlarge any of the photos, or see who had liked and commented – she didn’t trust herself not to slip and accidently like something from his feed. 

The thing Claire was certain of, however, was the lack of a girlfriend, or a partner. Surely if he had one, they would feature on his Instagram, and surely, if he had a girlfriend, he wouldn’t be coming round alone to his neighbour’s house for a cup of tea. 

There was something about him being single that put a smile on Claire’s face, but she was too tired to really think about it. 

One thing was for certain though; it was almost unfair how fit he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! This chapter took the longest to write so far, at nearly 5000 words - and i'm insanely proud of it. I laughed and cried myself while writing it, and i hope you can feel that too. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and i hope you liked it!
> 
> Kudos and comments make my whole week, so come chat with me and gush about all your favourite bits. 
> 
> I'm also on tumblr, come follow me and we can chat there too - i promise I'm not scary lol.
> 
> xoxo


	5. Chapter Five

Locking the door behind him, Jamie walked straight to his living room and sank down onto his sofa, in an effort to try to wrap his head around what had just happened.

He’d planned to knock on Miss Beauchamp’s door, give her the parcel, exchange pleasantries and introductions and then bid her good night. Instead, she had invited him in and he’d found himself saying ‘yes’ before she could take back her invitation. 

From then on, he’d stumbled into her kitchen – standing in the center of it, while she asked him what he would like to drink. In his mind, he worried that he might have stuttered or have his mouth hanging open in disbelief at the situation, but much to his shock, Jamie had actually been able to answer her.

Claire had nodded and then told him to go make himself comfortable in her living room. 

“Comfortable?” He thought to himself as he followed her instructions. How on earth am I meant to be comfortable, when I’m inside Claire Beauchamp’s home? The woman who I first saw sunbathing in the garden and then thought about for an uncanny amount of hours.

Safely alone in her living room by himself, Jamie had taken a handful of deep breaths to try to calm himself down. From here he could hear her pottering about, clinking mugs together and opening and closing what must have been the jar where she kept the tea bags. The loudest noise was the sound of her pulling open a drawer (presumably the cutlery drawer to find a teaspoon,) and then slamming it shut. The cutlery inside could be heard jangling together and Jamie had the image of her nudging the drawer shut with her hip. 

Shaking his head and in need of a distraction, while she made the tea, Jamie thought it best to flick through her bookcase. It stood in a built in alcove and looked to be brand new and most likely one from Ikea (Jamie would know that Ikea glossy white finish anywhere), but was already bursting at the seams with books. All kinds of books; hardback, paperback, mass market. Historical fiction, romance, non-fiction history, non-fiction science. Geographical books about Egypt, Greece, Rome and other far-off places that Jamie had never visited. 

He felt like he’d jumped a foot in the air, when Claire snuck up into the living room and asked him how he took his tea. Her clear, high, English accent, cutting through him, so different compared to his deep, broad, Scots dialect. 

Stepping away from the shelves, Jamie noticed that Claire’s massive sofa and her glass coffee table took up the rest of the space in her living room. 

The sofa itself was easily meant for three or four people to sit on it at one time – with blankets folded up neatly in a wicker basket that sat down beside the left-hand side of the sofa. Multiple pillows had also been placed on the sofa, all plump and inviting. 

The glass table sat directly in line with the middle of the sofa. Devoid of any sticky finger marks and shined enough that Claire would sure to be able to see a reflection of herself when she placed the mugs of tea upon it – Jamie knew that Jenny would kill for her furniture to look like that. Instead of the fingerprinted, drooled up and slightly rickety coffee table that his sister currently owned. 

Just like the sofa, the table, too, had a small amount of trinkets dotted around here and there. Three different types of candles, a lighter, an issue of vogue magazine, the remote control for the telly on the wall, a tiny rabbit statue, Claire’s phone and what must be a Kindle with a bright blue case protecting it. 

Guessing that the tea would be ready by now, Jamie took a seat on her sofa, feeling the cushions beneath him dip with his added weight. Just as soon as Jamie had settled back into the cushions behind him, Claire came back, a mug for both of them in each hand. He gave her his thanks and she, too, took a seat on her sofa. 

He felt the silence amongst them; so taking the plunge he had broke the ice first. Within seconds, he had Claire laughing, and it made his insides turn to slush. Her laughter was infectious, making Jamie want to laugh right alongside her and never stop. 

He had felt the passion in Claire’s voice when she told him about her career. Jamie had been beyond impressed. First, because of the job she did, not everyone was cut out for being a surgeon, or working in a hospital in general. And second, because of her having that drive and always knowing what she was meant to do with her life. Jamie, like many people he knew, had absolutely no clue what his dream job was, or what suited them best. He simply went with the flow of life, seeing wherever it would take him and praying that it was somewhere good. 

Claire, though, loved her work and knew where she was meant to be. Especially, since she’d packed up her entire life from down in the south of England, to move to Scotland, all by herself. 

One thing Jamie prided on himself for was his uncanny knack to hear the things that people didn’t want to say to his face. So, yes, there had been no talk about boyfriends, or partners that she might have left in Oxfordshire in her story – but Claire had a glass face and he had heard a small wobble in her voice. Which told Jamie that maybe the move up here hadn’t been as plain sailing as she would have liked. 

Although there was a gap of space between them on the sofa, they weren’t sitting on complete opposite sides – and Jamie was very much aware of the bonny women in the room with him. The silence surrounding them didn’t help, and Jamie soon found his mind wandering off once more. 

Previously, he’d only spotted her from behind windows, while she was meters away – but this evening, he had stood face to face with her, and seen parts of her he hadn’t before. 

The main thing he noticed about Claire, apart from the tight-fitting clothes she wore, was her height. She was taller than most women, making her appear to have a level-headed and regal spark about her. It reminded Jamie a bit of his mum. Ellen too was tall for a woman, especially compared to Jenny, who was only 5’2 – and had always had this air about her. A way of commanding people. 

Claire had that same type of aura about her. 

Second, her hair. Yes, he’d seen that it was brunette, but with the living room light shining upon it, Jamie could make out all the different textures in it. It was clearly thick. Wavy in some parts and full curly in others. Jamie had a sudden yearning to lean over and run his fingertips through the strands that framed her face. 

Talking about her face, Jamie knew he’d seen no one with a clearer complexion than Claire. Her cheekbones stood high on her heart-shaped face, and both her lips were full. Except for her bottom lip that was a tiny bit plumper. It made her look like she was pouting, and Jamie wanted to either bite it or pull it down with his thumb or maybes both.

Her eyes, though, were by far Jamie’s favourite. They were unlike anything he’d seen before. Plenty of people had commented on the Fraser family’s eyes – blue, and catlike – but Claire’s were amber, and stunning. They had tiny flecks of light brown in them, which helped make the amber sparkle in the light overhead. They lit up her whole face when she laughed, or when mischief was etched across her face. 

Before he could embarrass himself by touching her or looking at her for too long, Jamie had stood up – just so that he could get rid of some of his pent up energy. The photos that showed snippets of her life had entranced him.  
Claire had then leant against him and walked him through the people in each of the frames. Her best friend, Geillis. Her uncle. Her parents. Like earlier, Claire’s voice froze up when talking about the man and woman, who were clearly her mum and dad. It had sounded like she was trying very hard to get the words out of her mouth, but they were almost sticky like syrup.

Again, Jamie deducted there was something else there that she didn’t want to get into. Something a bit personal that you wouldn’t go about telling somebody you’ve just recently met. So he had left it alone, not wanting to pry and upset her. She had already clammed up, as it was.

Thinking it perhaps best to leave Claire to her own thoughts, Jamie had declined her offer of another cuppa – pleading for an early start in the morning. Which, was by no means a lie, he and Angus were scheduled to meet with multiple pub owners to see if they would be willing to stock the company’s whisky. 

Claire didn’t seem put out by this, and he wished her good night and then bolted to the safety of his own space. 

Now that he had been sitting by himself for a while, Jamie had somehow managed to calm down the butterflies that swirled about in his stomach. If he was being honest, they had been there for some time now. From when he knocked on her door, or perhaps from even before that, when he had taken in her parcel and found out her name. 

But they didn’t have to mean anything. It wasn’t like he had feelings for her, after all, yes they’d chatted, but he still didn’t really know anything about her other than the basics. It was just a crush, that’s all it was. A crush. Well, who wouldn’t have a crush on their next-door neighbour, if they looked the way that Claire did. She was bloody gorgeous, and there was no denying it. 

Thinking it best to get out of his head, Jamie turned on the telly – flicking through the channels endlessly, until he came upon an old rerun of the Scottish rugby world cup, from a couple of years ago. And it had just started, so he could watch the game in full.

Staring at the screen, Jamie could feel himself winding down, his brain becoming tired and sluggish. Halfway through the match, his phone, which was situated in his jean back pocket, began to ring. Sending vibrations down his left leg as he wrestled underneath himself to find his mobile. 

Jenny’s name popped up in the form of the caller ID, and Jamie lazily swiped his finger along the screen to accept the phone call. 

“Hiya,” he answered, eyes still fixated on the game playing in front of him. 

Jenny’s voice travelled through the voice, “Hello. Ye alright?”

“Aye, no too bad. Yeself?” 

“Aye, braw.”

“Ian? And the bairns?” Jamie used the remote control to pull up the time on the telly. Just past nine o’clock. 

“Aye, fine as well. Ian’s just managed to get them in bed, Maggie hardly slept a wink last night, so she’s been a right bawbag all day – screaming and whining.” 

Jamie snorted and knew that Jenny would be able to hear his smile through the phone. “Sounds aboot right, that’s kids for ye.”

“Aye, and one day it’ll be happening to ye brother, and I’ll sit back and laugh,” Jenny retorted. 

Jamie snorted, “Oh, I’m counting on it.” 

“So what ye been up to today, then?” 

“No much, really. Did some work at home, had food, watched some telly and then I’m off to bed after I put the phone down. Ye?”

“Och, I took the kids to the park to burn off some steam, while Ian was at the stables. Aye, we went to the one right by the stream, the ken the one that’s always got an ice-cream van?” 

“Yeah, I ken which one.”

“I can never remember the name of it, well anyway. Maggie didn’t want me to push her on the swing, she wanted Wee Jamie to do it. But then, he kept pushing it to hard and sending her flying, so she had a right strop. And then, while I’m trying to wrestle her out of the swing set, calm her doon and tell Jamie off – bloody Mrs Knickers in a Twist comes round the corner. All hoity toity, nose in the air, with her bairns.”

Jamie (and the rest of his family) were all quite familiar with – as Jenny called her – Mrs Knickers in a twist. Her three kids went to the same school Wee Jamie and Maggie attended, and she and Jenny had had a fair few run-ins with one another. 

By this point, Jamie had partially tuned out Jenny’s story. Growing up with Jenny had meant that from a young age, he had developed a skill of pretending to listen and only paying attention when something important was happening. 

“Are ye even listening to me, Jamie?” 

The sharp, commanding tone in his older sister’s voice jolted Jamie back into the present moment. 

“What? Aye, yes, of course I’m listening. Mrs Knickers in a twist and all that.”

“Are ye sure ye alright, brother? Ye sound funny,” 

“I promise I’m fine. Tired is all, Jenny,”

“Tired? Ye worked from home all day, ye lazy bugger. How can ye possibly be tired?” 

Focusing on the game and without thinking about who he was talking to, Jamie let it slip. 

“I finished work and then spent the last hour or so chatting with Claire.” 

There was silence on the other side of the mobile phone and then… 

“Claire? Who’s Claire?” 

Well, his eyes certainly weren’t focused on the game anymore, and more preoccupied with the slip up he’d made.

Shit shit shit fuck shit. Rule number one; never tell your meddling sister about the woman you have a crush on. Backtrack backtrack backtrack. 

Nonchalantly as he possibly could, Jamie replied, “Och, just the woman who moved in next door. Ye ken the cottage that was up for rent – that one.” 

“Ah, right. Claire. So, does this Claire live alone?”

“Mhm,” Jamie didn’t trust himself to speak actual words.

Jenny continued, “And does she have a boyfriend? Husband? Other romantic partner?” 

“Don’t think so. She didn’t mention one when we spoke.” 

Shit shit shit fuck shit – you’ve done it again. Stop talking, Jamie lad. 

Nothing could stop Jenny now, “So, what did you talk aboot then?” 

Rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort, Jamie answered somewhat truthfully, “This and that. Jobs and the like.”

“Ye stood on her front step and talked about jobs and the like, for an hour? What did ye even go round for?” The disbelief was quite clearly etched across Jenny’s face.

“I had a parcel for her…”

“Ye had a parcel for her?” Jenny screeched.

“No, no, no, no like that Jenny. God’s sake get ye heed oot the gutter,” Jamie shook his head at his sister’s antics. “She got something delivered, but she wasn’t in when it arrived so I took it in for her. When I knew she was back in the house, I took it round.”

“How did ye know she was back, hm?”

“I… er… I saw her through the window,” 

Scoffing, Jenny said, “Ye saw her through the window? Right. Ye dropped her parcel off and then stood talking for an hour. That right?”

He knew Jenny couldn’t see him through the phone, but she knew him inside and out, and so she probably knew that he was biting his lip – the tell he always had when he wasn’t telling the truthfully or telling a lie.

“Aye, sorta. She invited me in for a cuppa, and we sat on her sofa talking, not on her front step…”

Jenny was like a dog with a bone. 

“And is she nice?”

“Yep.”

“How old is she?”

“I didn’t ask her exact age. 25 or 26, I guess. Why?”

“Just wondering,” Jenny said. 

Just wondering, my arse, Jamie thought.

In the background, Jamie heard Ian ask Jenny, “Whose on the phone?”

“Jamie,” he heard Jenny answered her husband, and then she must have pulled the phone away from her face, because the conversation between Ian and Jenny became muffled.

Ian must have snatched the phone from Jenny’s hand, for he started speaking to Jamie, without any greeting. “So, Jenny tells me, ye think ye new neighbour is fit.” 

“Her name’s Claire,” Jenny called.

“Claire,” Ian repeated.

Jamie sighed, there was no point even trying to deny it.

“Can ye put Jenny back on the phone, please, mate?” 

“He wants to speak to ye again,” Ian spoke to his wife, and then passed the phone back to her.

When he was quite sure that it was Jenny who had the phone back in her hand, and not Ian, he hissed down the phone, “I’m going to throttle ye, Janet.”

“Oooh Janet, is it?” She mocked, “It must be serious. I’d like to see ye try, brother.” 

“I’m done talking to ye, or anyone for that matter, aboot this. What did you even ring me for, in the first place?” 

Jenny must have heard the seriousness in his voice, because for the first time in her life, she didn’t pressure him about the Claire situation any further. 

“Mam wanted to ken if ye were coming up next Sunday?”

“Why didn’t she just ring me herself?” 

“Och I don’t ken Jamie, just answer the question will ye?”

“Tell her, I’m no sure yet. Supposed to be going oot with the lads on the Saturday… so no sure what fit state I’ll be in, but I’ll try my best.”

“Aye, I ken what ye all like. It’ll be a right piss up, no doubt.” 

Though he couldn’t see her, Jamie knew that Jenny would be shaking her head – in a manner almost scarily like his mother’s – in disappointment. 

Indifferently as he could be, Jamie said, “Probably. Look, Jenny, I’m gonna have to go. Early start in the morning and all that.”

Jenny saw right through him. “Ye just want to get rid of me so I wouldn’t talk aboot Claire anymore.”

Even the way she said Claire’s name, in that singsong-y way that children did when teasing you, got on Jamie’s nerves. 

“Aye, that too. Goodnight, Janet. Love ye.” 

“Night, brother. Love ye.” 

And with that, Jamie pressed the bright red button on his iPhone to disconnect the call. Throwing his phone to the side, so that it hit the sofa cushion with a soft thump, Jamie noticed that he’d spent so long on the phone with Jenny that the rugby match had now finished. Adverts for that Peloton bike subscription flashed up on his screen, instead of big burly men jumping on top of one another. 

The conversation with Jenny and Ian had drained him. There was no way on God’s green earth, that his crush on Claire was going to be kept a secret for long, now that Jenny knew. 

Dragging both hands down his face, and blowing out a massive breath, Jamie thought about all the possibilities that Jenny would hold this over his head. He couldn’t decide what was worse – her bribing him? Or her telling his mam and dad straight away? 

Bloody hell, Ellen would be clapping her hands together, when she heard the news. Jamie wouldn’t be surprised if she made the journey down to his home, and then brashly knocked on Claire’s door. 

There was no getting round this now. The best course of action would to just keep his mouth shut about the Claire situation and pray that nobody pried… aye. Like that would ever happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there :) 
> 
> I do hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though (and maybes i'm being hard on myself here) i don't think it's my best work. I've had a hellish week; extra work, job offers falling through, covid scares and my fur baby taking ill... so i am proud of myself for even writing it and getting it up for you all. 
> 
> I haven't had time to reply to comments, but i'll be getting round to them asap. On the topic of comments, i thought i'd answer something. I'm unsure how many chapters this will have b/c i only have a vague plot for this, but i mainly write whatever comes to me at the time - i write completely for fun, and as practise, i stopped writing years ago and have decided to pick it back up, so this story is me getting back into the swing of things. 
> 
> This means i'm quite rusty, and i know that. This story and my writing will not be for everyone, and that is completely fine. I just ask that you click off the page, instead of leaving a comment. 
> 
> I'm fine with constructive criticism - if said correctly - but i will only tolerate kind, positive comments. Anything else will be deleted. 
> 
> Thank you.  
> xoxo


	6. Chapter Six

A week and a bit passed before Jamie spoke to Claire again properly. 

The time inbetween had been full of waves, as Jamie saw Claire leave her home dressed in her work scrubs, and polite hellos as Claire watched Jamie pull up in his car from work, and make his way up his cottage path. 

There had been a number of times when Jamie had wanted to stop and talk to her. To ask her mundane things; like how the Scottish weather fared that day, or if she’d had a good day at work. But they’d been like passing ships in the night. And on the odd occasion that they did see one another, they were too busy to do more than wave. Well, Jamie had been too busy to stop and wave and he hoped that the same implied to Claire, and not just that she had been avoiding talking to him. 

The day Jamie finally got to speak more than two words to Claire was a Saturday. A Saturday that had sat in Jamie’s diary for a while and now, and one he was much looking forward too. 

Angus, Rupert, Willie, Fergus and Jamie himself had made plans for a well overdue boy’s night out. The four of them would be arriving at Jamie’s at nine, to have a couple drinks there, before they hit the clubs and bars that lined the Scottish streets. 

After signing a few pieces of paperwork, Jamie had bid Angus see you later and then drove straight to the gym. Once there, he put himself through a gruelling hour and a half workout, trying his hardest to get rid of the mass of energy that flowed through him - a mass of energy that had always flowed through him since being a small child. But now it wasn’t as easy as just running about in the fields and fighting with other lads to get rid of his vigour, so he settled for a punishing gym session instead. 

Afterwards, at home, he rushed about. Cleaning up the mess he had made last night, and emptying and then refilling the dishwasher. With just enough time to spare, he ran upstairs to freshen up and take a shower. Nice shirt and jeans on, deodorant and aftershave applied and hair gelled slightly – Jamie was finally ready, and not a moment too soon, as a heavy hand knocked on his front door. 

Rupert and Willie stood on the other side of it, both of them looking well put together and smiling in anticipation of the oncoming night out. 

Jamie welcomed them inside, grabbing them each a tumbler with three fingers worth of whisky inside, and placed the whisky bottle on the table for anybody who wanted a refill. 

Angus turned up next, a bottle of tequila in one hand and a bagful of limes in the other, as an offering. Grinning widely, he couldn’t wait to start the night and told any of the lads who would listen, what type of woman he wanted to pull tonight (rude and vulgar gestures included). The youngest of the group at 20, Fergus, turned up last. The Frenchman was usually immaculately dressed, especially for someone who worked as a stable hand, but tonight not even a dark hair was out of place on his 1950s coffered hairdo. 

The five friends chatted for a bit, catching up on each other’s lives, with stories too long to fit into the group chat. The alcohol flowed between them all, a mixture of whisky and tequila shots, until Jamie felt a pleasant glow inside his stomach. He was by no means drunk, or even tipsy yet, but comfortable enough to feel his limbs looser than normal. 

Minutes before the clock struck ten, Willie suggested they book a taxi, and Jamie patted himself down in search of his wallet, so that he could pay. Unable to feel it in his pocket, he retraced his steps back to opening to wallet at the gym’s reception and taking out his membership card. He vaguely remembered storing it inside his glove compartment inside his car, and so stepped outside to go grab it. 

That’s when he saw her. 

Claire.

Even though it was still technically summer, it was dark enough in the evening that the streetlamps had turned on in the street. He hadn’t noticed her when he had walked to his car, but now that he was making his way back inside the cottage – Jamie could see nothing but her. 

She stood leaning up against on the aforementioned streetlamps, staring down at the phone that sat in her right hand. 

The golden light from above beamed down on her; creating a long shadow behind her and making her silhouette clear to see. Maybe it was the alcohol that he had consumed, or maybe it was the way she was dressed. Or perhaps it was both. But Jamie couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. 

“Claire,” he called, startling her out of her phone induced daze.

She looked up to find the source of his voice, and Jamie felt his breath catch in his throat. 

Her once wavy hair had been straightened, and parted in the middle – so that it sat glossily over one shoulder. Her makeup was heavier than he’d ever seen it before, eyes done up in a classic way and lips painted a ruby red that highlighted her cupid’s bow and full pout. Her lipstick colour matched the colour of her dress… that was if you could even call it a dress. Her arms were bare because it had thin straps holding it up on her frame and clung to every curve she had as it fell inches before her knees. It hugged her breasts, showing the large space of skin between décolletage and cleavage. Cleavage, which from Jamie’s added height, he could see plainly. The red fabric nipped in at her waist and skimmed back out again at her hips – showing off her hourglass figure. Her legs ran out of under the dress; long, lean pins that shone in the light from whatever oil she had applied, and then ending in a pair of black stiletto heels. 

Jamie took a step closer to her and caught a scent of her perfume. Something that smelled darker and more sensual than the perfume he had scented on her while in her cottage. 

“Hi,” she spoke before he could. 

Jamie concentrated hard on not letting his eyes slip to anywhere but her eyes. Swallowing hard, he said, “Hiya. Off somewhere nice?”

Claire nodded and smiled at him, making his heart speed up and start pounding. “Yeah, I’m out off for Geillis’ birthday. Just waiting for the taxi now… you up to anything nice tonight?” 

Jamie knew she asked the question out of politeness, because her face betrayed whether or not she actually wanted to know the answer.

“Aye, oot with a few friends of mine. Long overdue lads night oot and all.”

Claire nodded, but her face had fallen a smidge, like that was not the answer she wanted. 

“Well, have fun,” She bade him. 

“Ye too Claire.” 

A thought popped into his head, and before he knew it, the words were out of his mouth, “Actually… do ye wanna come in mine and wait while the taxi arrives? Could do one last shot before we all go oot?”

Claire looked taken aback, for a moment, at the offer and then nodded. “Yes, please. Just so I don’t look strange standing out her all alone.” 

Jamie laughed, and Claire joined him. 

“After ye,” Jamie ushered Claire before him, so she could reach the cottage first. He’d meant it as a gentlemanly gesture, but hadn’t taken into account that bloody red dress. The back of her was just as lovely a sight as the front of her. Like her breasts, waist and hips, the material of her dress clung to her arse. And, my god, what an arse it was. He wanted to run his hands along the curve of her hips, push her dress up to her waist and see what type of underwear she wore underneath. Was it a thong? Was it red to match her dress? Was she conscious of underwear lines, and so decided to just forgo any type of undergarments? Her arse, like the rest of her body, called out to be touched, squeezed, kissed and spanked. God, what Jamie would do to Claire, if he ever got his hands on her. Jesus, he had to stop before he had a full-blown semi on his hands. 

His train of thought was stopped in its tracks, when Claire opened the door and the loud jesting that had been happening inside, stopped completely. Jamie shut the door behind himself, making the kitchen space shrink with the amount of bodies packed into it and then gestured his hand to Claire. 

“Lads, this is Claire. She lives next door. Claire, this is everybody.”

The silence that fell upon the ground seemed deafening as Jamie watched Willie’s eyes track Claire’s figure. 

Breaking the silence, Claire held up her hand in a friendly wave, “It’s nice to meet you all.” 

“She’s a Sassenach,” Rupert whispered to Fergus, loud enough for everyone else in the kitchen to hear.

Putting himself forward, Angus introduced himself first, “Angus, lass. And this eejit here,” he pointed to his left, “Is Rupert.” 

“It’s nice to meet ye, Claire. I’m Willie,” Willie sent a welcoming smile her way.

Claire nodded, registering the names so she would remember them if she needed, and then turned to the lad Rupert had whispered too, who still had not introduced himself. 

“Cat got ye tongue, laddie?” Angus laughed, thumping the lad on his back. 

The lad opened his mouth to talk, but nothing came out, so he cleared his throat and then tried again. “I’m Fergus, Miss.”

“Just Claire is fine. Ah, thank you,” Claire took the glass full of ice and whiskey from Jamie’s outstretched hand, and smiled at him in thanks. 

Feeling numerous sets of eyes on her, Claire pressed her lips to the edge of her glass and took a tiny sip of the alcohol inside. “Mmm, this is good stuff, is it yours?”

Jamie felt like he and Claire were together in a bubble, as he looked sidelong at her, entranced as her full lips pulled away from the tumbler and left a red lipstick mark behind. Outside of the bubble, he heard Angus answer her. 

“Aye, it is, lass. Me and Jamie’s here pride and joy.” 

“You should be proud of yourselves, it’s good stuff.”

Finally, Jamie found his voice, the first time he had spoken to Claire since they had walked into his cottage, and said to her sincerely, “Thanks, Claire.” 

“So, what’s a Sassenach like yourself doing up in our neck of the woods?” Rupert asked, pouring himself another couple of fingers of whiskey. 

“Work,” Claire answered, “I’m a surgeon at the local hospital.” 

Willie spoke up, taking the almost empty alcohol bottle from Rupert and passing it along to Angus, “Wow! Good for ye, Claire.” 

“Thank you,” she replied. 

Silence descended once again among the muddled group. Jamie wanted to speak to Claire, but it felt like his mind had drawn a blank. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted to say to her in front of his friends. 

“Have ye booked the taxi, Jamie?” Fergus asked.

To Fergus Jamie said, “I’ll done it now,” and then he turned to Claire. “Ye wanna share with us, Claire? We can drop ye off first?” 

“Oh, no, it’s alright, mine should be here anytime soon. But thank you, Jamie.” 

Jamie nodded his understanding, typing in the taxi placement number into his keypad. 

“Why don’t we just share Claire’s taxi?” Fergus chimed in again. “That would be easier.” 

“Won’t all fit.” Angus said matter-of-factly, “We need a seven seater.” 

“And, we’re not imposing on Claire’s night out.” Jamie told him, ending the automated call. “Right, it’s booked, should be about 10 minutes. Where about ye going anyway, Claire?” 

Knocking back the last of her whiskey, Claire placed her lipstick stained glass on the kitchen counter next to the sink. “Geillis booked a room in that Eden.”

Rupert raised an eyebrow, and then in a fake posh English accent said, “Ooooh fancy.” 

Claire laughed, “Well, it is her birthday after all. And you’ve never met Geillis, she’s all about more is more…”

The sound of a car horn blaring interrupted Claire talking. Grabbing her phone out of her clutch bag, Claire walked towards the door, “Guess this is me, then. Thanks for the drinks, Jamie. It was lovely to meet the rest of you.” 

Jamie opened the door for her as she stepped out, “Ye welcome, Claire. Have a safe night, alright?”

“Will do, bye.” 

Jamie kept an eye on her as she opened the taxi car door and climbed inside and then sped off up the street. He shut the door again while he waited for his taxi and turned around to see his friends grinning at him like fools.

“What’s wrong with ye’s?”

“Thank ye, Claire. Ye welcome, Claire. Let me kiss ye, Claire,” Angus scrunched up his face and pretended to kiss the air. 

“I’m being friendly, she’s me neighbour for God’s sakes,” Jamie grabbed the empty glasses and placed them next to the one that Claire had held. Again, the sight of her lipstick mark made his heart beat funnily in his chest. 

“Your neighbour, my arse.” Rupert joined in on the ribbing. “Ye asked her oot yet?”

Jamie looked at him in disbelief, “No! Why on earth would I do that?” 

“Erm, because ye fancy her, and because she’s fit.” Willie said, with a know it all expression on his face. 

“Aye, young Fergus here couldn’t even keep his tongue in his wee heed. Thought it was gonna loll about on the floor.” Leaning over to him, Angus held Fergus in a headlock and mussed up the Frenchman’s perfect hairdo.

“Can ye blame him?” Rupert asked. “The arse on her. I would sell me soul to let her give me a ride, and what a ride it would be,”

Breathing heavily, Jamie raised his voice above the noise. “Stop it, will ye! Don’t talk about Claire that way!”

They must have heard something in his voice and known that they’d hit a nerve, for Rupert and the rest of them stopped talking at once. 

Hesitantly, Willie spoke up and asked, “Do ye like her, Jamie?” 

He said nothing for a beat, and then, “Aye.” 

Again, the conversation was interrupted by a taxi car horn. 

“Come on,” Willie, the voice of reason, said, “Let’s have a good night, and we can talk about what ye gonna do about Claire, later on.” 

Fergus opened the door first and was off down the path towards the taxi. On his way past Jamie, Rupert clapped him on the shoulder, “Sorry, mate,” he muttered, and then was off following the rest of the lads. Jamie left last, locking up the cottage behind himself and vowing to have a good night with his friends and put everything else to bed.

XxX

As he stumbled through the door from his lad’s night out, Jamie checked the time on his phone. 2:38 AM. He’d enjoyed his night; spending time with friends, letting loose and drinking a wee bit too much and watching Angus make an absolute fool of himself in front of the redheaded woman behind the bar. For part of the night, a dark haired girl had approached him and they started talking, but Jamie felt himself pull away when his mind wandered to Claire again. When the brunette politely asked for his mobile number, Jamie declined, using the excuse that he simply wasn’t looking for a relationship right now. After that, the girl had slinked off back to her group of friends and Jamie had been happily left alone for the rest of his night. 

Toeing off his shoes, he managed to get up the stairs, flinging off his shirt and undoing his trouser buttons as he went. In the bedroom, he gulped down half a glass of water that he’d left on his nightstand the evening previous, in hopes that it would lessen his oncoming hangover. Rolling into bed, with trousers still on, Jamie didn’t even pull the covers up before he was out like a light. 

It was a sound coming from outside that woke Jamie up from his slumber. 

Sitting bolt upright in disarray, Jamie couldn’t place the sound until he blinked the sleep out of his eyes and his brain switched on. At first, he had thought the noise was coming from outside. But now, it sounded like it was coming from the kitchen downstairs. In his mind, Jamie retraced his steps; leaving the club with Willie, check. Dropping Willie off at his parent’s house first, check. Giving directions to the taxi driver to the cottage, paying the taxi driver and getting out the car, check. Walking up the path, unlocking the door and then relocking the door behind himself, check. 

So, who the bloody hell was in his kitchen? 

Grabbing the bat that he kept under his bed, Jamie crept down the stairs – grateful for all those times he played hide and seek with Jenny and Ian, that had made him near silent of his feet. 

Peering round the corner towards the kitchen, Jamie could see nothing untoward, but the noise was much louder now, and followed by swear words. From here, Jamie could hear much clearer that it sounded like somebody trying to use his lock and keys. Switching on the kitchen lights fully, Jamie looked through the window to see out the front, and could see a shadow, bent at the waist as if trying to put a key in his lock. 

Seizing his keys that he had chucked onto the kitchen counter top, Jamie unlocked the front door from his side, swung it open ready to hurl abuse at the person on the opposite side – and found himself face to face with a drunk Claire Beauchamp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all and happy sunday!
> 
> I'm really excited to post this chapter, i think it's my favourite one yet!!
> 
> Hope you are all staying well. The part of England i live in, has been put back into lockdown restrictions. So, not as strict as a lockdown but still very much restricted. To cheer myself up, I've bought myself the full outlander boxset, so i'll be spending my time writing and binge watching the show for the millioneth time lmao. 
> 
> Kudos and comments make my whole week, especially in times like these, so would really appreciate it if you came and chatted with me in the comments or on my tumblr <3
> 
> Enjoy xoxo


	7. Chapter Seven

It was like déjà vu all over again. 

Seeing the door swing up, Claire straightened herself up. Her eyes, when they met his, were glassy and unfocused. 

Jamie took stock of the rest of her body. She seemed to be fine; bright red dress still short and skintight, lipstick untouched and not all over her face, and clutch bag dangling precariously from the tips of her fingers, wide open, looking like everything inside it would spill out all over the pavement. The only thing that was off, was that sometime during the night, she’d obviously taken her heels off, for they, like the clutch, were dangling from one of her fingers – while the other hand was completely empty except for the set of keys she’d been trying to jam into his lock. 

“Hey! You got the door open!” Claire slurred, tucking the set of keys into her palm, so she was able to hold herself up on the door frame. She studied him for a while, blinked hard twice, straightened up and said somewhat aggressively, “What you doing in my house?”

Jamie didn’t have the heart to tell her that her sentence made no sense, she was slurring her words and she didn’t look scary in the slightest. 

“Ye’ve got the wrong house, Sassenach,” 

“Eh?” She said eloquently, trying her damn hardest to focus her eyesight. 

Jamie laughed, “Ye must be absolutely hammered, Claire. Ye live next door, remember. Look, number 8,” he pointed to the little plaque on the brick next to the door that displayed which house number he lived at.   
Jamie wasn’t quite sure that Claire, in her current state, understood everything he was saying to her, but she giggled nonetheless. Her giggles turned into full-blown laughter and through it she managed to get out the words, “No wonder the key wouldn’t work.” 

Jamie chuckled alongside her at her expense. 

“Just give me two seconds, lass, and I’ll help ye get ye door open,” He turned back towards the stairs, to slip into the first pair of shoes and shirt he found available. While doing so he heard a thump from outside, and walked back to Claire to find her clutch bag, once full of belongings, strewn all over the place. Claire, herself, just stared down at them, her alcohol-addled brain not catching up with that she was seeing. 

Ever the gentlemen, Jamie bent down to gather up the items she had dropped – Claire continued to look on like she’d never seen him before. With clutch bag in his right hand, Jamie used his left to scoop up; a lipstick tube, travel size body spray, chewing gum, Claire’s purse and phone, and a single condom still in its wrapper. 

With everything she owned back in her bag, Jamie unfolded his body and stood up straight. “Can ye walk, lass?” he asked. Claire opened her mouth to answer but her words got stuck so she settled for nodding her head yes. She took one step forward, wobbled – even though she was barefooted – and almost went head first over the wall that separate Jamie from Mr and Mrs Barcley next door. 

Despite it all, Jamie couldn’t stop himself from smiling, “I’ll take that as a no then, give me ye hand, Claire.” 

She slipped her much smaller hand into his larger one and let Jamie lead her out his gate and to her own. 

Meanwhile, Jamie was trying to hardest to concentrate on the ground below him. Having what must have been only a few hours sleep, and half a glass of water before bed, he had sobered up more than he thought – but still the concrete under his feet swayed slightly. The softness of Claire’s hand was also distracting him from the task at hand. He so desperately wanted to find out if the rest of her body was as soft as her hand, if not softer in some places. 

“Pass ye keys, then.” Plucking the offered keys from Claire’s possession, Jamie fitted them in the lock, turned them to the left and push down on the door handle to let it swing open. 

Jamie walked in first, Claire trailing after him, still holding onto his hand. With his free hand, Jamie pushed the front door closed until he heard the snick of the catch. Not a light appeared to be on in the cottage, and now with the door closed, the kitchen was pitch black. Putting his hand on the wall, Jamie felt around till his hand touched the cold, smooth surface of the light switch. Pushing it down, the kitchen illumined instantly and Jamie and Claire were able to see each other again. 

Jamie watched as Claire blinked hard, her eyes obviously trying to focus against the unexpected bright light. Her eyes met his for a moment, looked down at their pair of hands still attached together, and dropped his hand like it was on fire. 

The amount of alcohol that Claire had consumed had really affected her hand to eye coordination though, and so when she let go of his hand, she also let go of the pair of black stiletto heels that had been clutched in her other hand. 

They landed on the tiled kitchen floor with such a loud crash that Jamie wouldn’t be surprised if either the heels themselves or the tiled floor was broken. 

Jamie looked down at the shoes, then to Claire, and laughed quietly to himself at her antics. 

Placing her clutch bag and keys that he had held onto the nearest available space, Jamie said to her, “I’ll just get ye some water, and try to find some tablets to help with ye head in the morning, okay?” 

Claire said nothing; she just continued to peer at him from her spot in front of the sink. 

Jamie took a step forward toward the sink and therefore Claire, thinking that Claire would move to the side so he could fill up a glass for her. But she did no such thing. 

Jamie’s feet had a consciousness of their own, as they moved right up and center into Claire’s personal space. Being this close to her, Jamie could see that in a bid to steady herself and stay upright, Claire’s now free hands were tightly gripped behind her, on the lip of the stainless steel sink. 

For, the second time that night (or was it the next day now?) Jamie had the sense that he and Claire were trapped inside a bubble. A bubble that only the two of them occupied. Everything else around them seemed distorted, dreamlike and unreal, like nothing else mattered except one another. 

The slow motion, dreamlike state continued as Claire let go of the sink with one of her hands and lifted it towards Jamie. Out of his periphery, Claire’s pale hand travelled higher and higher, closer and closer, till it landed in his red hair. 

Amber eyes met blue.

The pupil of Claire’s eyes were blown wide with something a kin to desire, so that only a sliver of the amber colour remained and Jamie knew that if he had a mirror and could see his own, his own eyes would too, be black with want. 

He could feel the slight pressure on the top of his head where her hand was placed and could hold back his groan of pleasure, as her hand began to move. She ran her hand further through his thick hair, her almost too long fingernails scraping gently at his scalp in such a comforting way. Of their own accord, his eyelids dropped – breaking the stare between their sets of eyes. 

Jamie felt like he was floating, like time and space and the cold ground beneath his feet didn’t exist. Claire’s fingertips tightened their grip at the back of his head, so that she pulled a tad on the strands that lay there. Jamie’s right hand snaked out, latching onto her fabric covered hip, in an effort to ground himself as her hand came back to the front of his hair and started its course over again. 

Knowing that he shouldn’t, but unable to stop himself, Jamie ran this thumb soothingly along Claire’s hipbone in an effort to touch her as much as she was touching him. He tugged her closer until her breasts brushed up against his chest, and there wasn’t an inch of space left between them. 

Jamie bent at the neck, not caring that the movement would dislodge Claire’s hand in his hair, and leant towards her face. 

He was about three seconds away from placing his lips onto Claire’s obviously willing ones, when he felt Claire’s chest rise and fall in an irregular pattern. Her eyes changed from desire to panic, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Jamie pulled away instantly, worried that he was about to get a face full of vomit. 

“Mm, sowwy,” Claire mumbled behind her hand and closed mouth. 

Jamie smiled at her in sympathy, “It’s alright, Claire. Go get into bed and I’ll bring you some water up.”

Like a newborn deer, Claire moved past Jamie, into the living room and up the stairs, all the while wobbling on her legs and holding onto anything she could find purchase on.

Opening up the cupboard closed to the sink, Jamie peered inside to find a variety of plates, platters, and bowls. The next one he tried contained cleaning supplies. Third times a charm, he yanked open the cupboard above his head and succeed in being met with mugs and glasses. He selected one at random and flicked on the cold water tap to fill up the glass. 

Glass in hand, and clutch tucked under his arm, Jamie trudged up the carpeted stairs. He turned right, like he would do in his own home, to find the bedroom. When he got there, he could see Claire wasn’t in bed, like he had expected, but standing in front of her full length mirror, battling with the zipper down her back that held the dress up.   
“Do ye need help, Claire?” Jamie asked, placing the full glass and her clutch bag down on her nightstand beside her bed. 

Claire made what sounded to be a squeak and shook her head violently.

“No,no be fine. Just sleep,” she garbled, and basically threw herself onto her made bed to stop Jamie from trying to reach her zipper. Jamie watched on, amused, as she wriggled about to find a comfortable position to sleep in and yanked the covers from underneath herself. 

She had mentioned nothing about the almost kiss/almost vomit moment downstairs, and so Jamie wisely decided that he, too, would keep his mouth shut.

He did think about coaxing her to drink some of the water. Maybe propping his hand under her neck to support her and tilting the glass to her lips – but no, the moment had been broken, and after what had just happened downstairs that sounded too personal. Anyway, he was still a bit woozy himself. Trying something like that would just end up with both of them covered in cold water. 

So, he said instead, “Have some water for ye head, and I’ll got get ye some ibuprofen for in the morning. Where about is it?” 

“Bafroom,” came the muffled reply from the woman underneath the duvet. 

Crossing the landing to the bathroom, Jamie pushed open the door and flicked on the light switch. He was met with the scent of clean soap and the sultry perfume that he had smelled on Claire a couple hours previously. The bath and shower combo was filled along the side with different types of products that Claire must use; shampoo, conditioner, a razor, shaving cream, face wash, body scrub, shower gel and a loofa that had been hung to dry on the wall. 

For what must be the fiftieth time that night, Jamie created a fictional image of Claire in his mind. This time she was in the shower. Hot water beating down on her, it pooling in her clavicle and her tummy button and the rest of the water rivulets dripping off her. Claire pouring a glob of shower gel onto the loofa and rubbing gently on her skin to create a path of soapy bubbles…

What did he come in here for again? 

Oh, ibuprofen. Right. 

Her sink held no packets of tablets, just a toothbrush, some toothpaste and a bottle of mouthwash – so his next best bet was the mirror cabinet above the sink. It turned out that there were three shelves worth of products in the cabinet, that Jamie had to sort through to find the item he was looking for. Spare toothbrushes, floss, body moisturisers, gradual fake tan, face moisurisers, face oils, lip balms – were all pushed aside till he found the medical bag, behind a box of tampons mind you, that he had been looking for. 

Inside held a numerous amount of supplies, something perhaps out of the ordinary for a normal person but not for a surgeon, including a fresh packet of ibuprofen. He popped two tablets out from the plastic blister pack and zipped up the medical bag. Placing it back where he found it, he closed the cabinet door and crossed the landing again back to where Claire lay in bed. 

“I’m gonna leave these here, by ye water, for in the morning. Claire?” 

Her head popped up from underneath the covers, her once straightened hair becoming frizzier with the friction from the pillow, red lipstick smeared down on to her chin, and two slashes of pink high up on her cheeks in embarrassment, “Wha?” 

“Ibuprofen.” Jamie pointed to the white tablets beside her. “Next to ye glass of water for in that dreaded hangover ye gonna have in the morning. Do ye need anything else before I go?” 

“Phone,” Claire mumbled. 

“What would ye need ye phone for?” Jamie asked, confused, but picking her phone out of her clutch as she had asked. When the phone was in his hand, he tried to give it back to Claire, but she waved it away. 

“Text Geillie. Safe,” She dictated to him. 

“What?”

“Text Geillie. Tell her mm save.” 

It was cute, Jamie thought, the way Claire tried her hardest to get the words out correctly, but it still made no sense. 

Fingers hovering over the touchpad of Claire’s phone, Jamie said, “I need ye passcode, lass.”

“12008,” At least that was clear.

Putting in the passcode, Claire’s screensaver popped up, showing a picture of Claire and the blonde woman from the photographs in her home that she had explained to be her best friend Geillis. The two women stood together, arms round one another as they posed. The background showed them to be at a bar, with flowers and golden lights all around – but the thing that caught Jamie’s eye was Claire’s outfit. It was the same thing she was currently wearing, right down to the stiletto black heels and the Marilyn Monroe red lipstick. The picture must have only been snapped a couple of hours ago. 

Whoever this Geillie was, was at the top of Claire’s messages list, when Jamie tapped on the green app along the bottom line of the IPhone. Clicking onto Geillie’s name, a thread of messages cropped up, the last being sent only 2 minutes ago at 4:12AM. 

Geillie [4:12am] Ye backhome saf hen xxx

Jamie thought it would be easiest to just pretend to be Claire, instead of trying to explain this whole situation to this Geillie person. 

Claire [4:15am] yeahh xxxx

And send. 

He set the phone gently down beside all the other things on her nightstand. “Okay, I’ve sent it. Anything else before I go?”

Looking down at her, Jamie saw, as she shook her head ‘no’.

“Right, I’ll be going now then. I’ll lock the door behind, and post ye keys through the letterbox.” 

Jamie was basically out of the bedroom door, when he heard a small voice say, “Thank you, Jamie.” 

“Ye very welcome, Claire,” He said mostly to himself, and then made his way down the stairs. In a daze, he locked Claire’s front door and posted the keys through the letterbox, walked inside his own cottage, up the stairs and then flopped onto his bed, wiggling his feet to kick off his shoes as he went.

There was a part of his brain that wanted to dissect what had just happened. That wanted to focus on the almost kiss in the kitchen, and how personal it had been for both of them, for Jamie to be inside Claire’s bedroom. 

But the part of his brain that craved sleep, after such a chaotic night, won out and he was once again out like a light as soon as his eyes shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!
> 
> I've proof read and edited this quite late at night, so hopefully there isn't too many mistakes lmao
> 
> I'm also behind on comments (yet again) but I plan to get to everybody very very soon.
> 
> Thank you for all the love you have left me on this little story! Kudos and comments mean the absolute world to me, and keep me writing - so please, come and chat with me either in the comments or on my tumblr! 
> 
> xoxo


	8. Chapter Eight

The pounding in Claire’s head on Sunday morning was immense. 

She could feel the beat of her heart and her pulse thrumming through her brain and creating a solid rhythm in her temples. She tried to crack her eyes open; but found them stuck together with what she guessed was left over mascara from the night before. The tiny prick of light, streaming through the windows from outside, burned her eyes, making them water up and stream down either side of her face. So, she had given up and closed her eyes again – but this just made it worse. Now that her brain had woken up, the world around her seemed to be spinning. Making Claire think about that drunken Kermit the frog meme. That made her giggle to herself, but she stopped immediately when giggling made her body move, and her body moving made her feel like she was going to vomit her insides out. 

It took Claire another hour and a half, before she was able to swing her legs out of bed. An hour and a half in which she dozed half heartedly, and tried to psych herself up to get out of bed for the wee that she so desperately needed. In the end, when her bladder could take no more, Claire managed to get out of bed and stand up straight, helped with the assistance of her chest of drawers. 

She stumbled across the landing to the bathroom, all the while, her body protested her doing so. Bladder emptied, hands washed – Claire peered at her reflection that stared back at her in her bathroom mirror. To say she looked a mess was an understatement. She was still in her dress, was the first thing. The straps had fallen down her shoulders and the front of the dress was all askew – evidence of her twisting and turning in the middle of the night. 

Her face and hair told another story all together. 

Her dark chestnut hair, that she had so painstakingly washed, blow dried and straightened till it shined, was now a frizzy halo all around her head. Not an ounce of sleekness remained in it. Claire’s face makeup didn’t look too bad, but she knew from experience that sleeping in it, made the foundation, concealer, bronzer and blush melt into her pores and leave her with a handful of unexpected spots to deal with. The dark eye shadow, eyeliner, and mascara that she had so artfully painted on, had meshed together, making large dark rings around the top and bottom of her eyes and reminding Claire of raccoons. But the enticing red lipstick she had glossed over her lips was the biggest casualty of them all. It had bled out of her careful lip lined outline. It had sucked all the moisture out of her lips, making them sore and cracked – and if you looked close enough, you would be able to see bits of red in the cracks of her lips, that Claire couldn’t tell if they were the lipstick, or blood. And it had smeared; all down her chin, making her look like she’d dressed up as a clown. Even now, Claire knew that if it had smeared down her chin, then it must be smeared all over her white bed sheets, and my god, what a pain in the arse that was going to be, to wash the stain out. 

Grabbing the makeup remover and some cotton pads, Claire went to town on her face, trying her best to get rid of the thick of the makeup before she removed it properly in the shower. 

Happy with her work, Claire turned the shower on to the hot setting and moved her attention to the zipper on her dress. When she’d zipped herself up the night previously, she hadn’t stop to think about how difficult it would be to remove the dress, when she was drunk and alone. With a lot of maneuvering, and a few choice swear words, Claire was able to zip the dress down just enough for her to wiggle it up and over her head. She threw the dress in a pile onto the bathroom floor, peeling off her underwear, placing them on top of the pile ready for the washing machine and stepped under the hot spray of water. 

With her back to the spray, and eyes trained down to the shower tray, to let the water soak her beer smelling hair, Claire noticed the water turning a murky dark colour as it hit her feet. Pulling a confused face to herself, Claire steadied herself on the slippery shower wall and bent her left foot so that she could see the sole. It was dark, against the contrast of her light skin, showing signs of dirt. Placing her foot back down, Claire racked her brain to try to think about how her feet had become so dirty. Nothing came to mind, but she knew that to have feet that dirty, she must have, at one point, taken her heels off and walked barefoot. 

As she went through her usual shower routine of exfoliating her body, shampooing and conditioning her hair and washing her face and body, Claire kept trying to push her brain to remember the night out. But her brain kept jumping from one memory to another, becoming more and more hazy as she had become more and more intoxicated. 

She remembered getting dressed up, looking at herself in the full-length mirror before she went, and thinking to herself about how gorgeous she felt wearing the red dress and matching red lipstick. 

She remembered getting to Eden, being shown to the special room that Geillis had hired out for her own birthday. She remembered Geillis squealing with excitement as she spotted Claire, and the two women embracing each other in a bone-crushing hug. She remembered Geillis shoving a shot into her hand and telling her to get it down her throat. 

She remembered taking pictures and videos, dancing, and singing, and laughing – feeling like she was floating with pure happiness. 

There had only been one part of the night, where Claire had felt… well, she couldn’t put it in to words. Perhaps wrong was the best way to describe it. 

She had been dancing along, not a care in the world. Alcohol pumped through her veins, arms in the air and hips gyrating to Shakira’s ‘Hips Don’t Lie’. Behind her, she’d felt a body press up against her back, thick arms cording around her torso to hold her to him. The mystery man had glued his hips to Claire’s and moved to the same tempo she set, bearded cheek grazing her collarbones. The catchy song had almost ended, only the last few beats remained, when Dr. Tom Christie whispered, “Having fun, Claire?” into her ear. 

She had jumped into the air and out of his arms, not thinking for one moment that the mystery man grinding against her would be her colleague. 

He moved closer to her again, this time with his front body pressed up the front of her body and bent to speak in her ear over the next loud pounding song. “Can I buy ye a drink, Claire?”

It was the way he said “ye” and “Claire” in such a male scots way that reminded Claire of Jamie. 

God, Jamie. 

In the present moment, Claire dropped the bottle of moisturiser she had been applying to her dry body, onto the floor. 

How could she have forgotten about Jamie inviting her into his home, before she got the taxi to the club? 

The way he had called her name from across the street, and the way he had looked in his tight fitted dark denim wash jeans and button up shirt. The smell of his aftershave, when he had stood closer to her, and the sight of his windswept tousled red locks. She had gladly accepted his offer to have a drink at his cottage and had made sure she was friendly to his group of friends. Fergus had probably been her favourite; the poor lad couldn’t even look her in the eye. 

But as Claire had stood in his kitchen, she could remember just being so hyper focused on Jamie. What he was doing, where about in the kitchen he stood, who he was talking about. The green-eyed monster had popped up and made Claire jealous about the fact he was going on a lad’s night out. Somebody who looked the way Jamie looked would never be short of attention, male or female, and he most likely had a phone full of new mobile numbers. 

That’s why she had felt so wrong and guilty when she accepted the pina colada from Tom. 

She had wished that it had been Jamie to dance with her and offer her a drink, instead of Tom Christie. 

Claire’s body was protesting again.

Her head was throbbing and a bubbly nausea feeling had settled itself in the pit of her stomach. Claire couldn’t decide if she needed to eat something, lie down or vomit, or maybe all of the above. 

Fluffy white towel wrapped around her body, Claire walked back into her bedroom. She couldn’t face getting dressed properly, after all, she wasn’t going anywhere and nobody was coming around. So who cared that she planned to lazy about in the pajamas all day? Rifling through her drawers, until she found her comfiest pair of pajamas, Claire dropped the towel and pulled the soft jersey material up her legs and over her head. 

All the movement of having a shower and getting changed had left Claire with not only a headache and nausea, but also some dizziness. As a doctor of medicine, she knew the best cause of action was to sit down and hopefully wait for the room to stop spinning. So, that’s what she did, noticing as she did so, that yes, her pillowcases and bed sheet were indeed stained red from her lipstick and would need to washed as soon as possible. 

Leaning up against said pillows, Claire thought about other things that needed to be washed and cleaned; the bedding, her dress, her underwear, her third favourite pair of yoga leggings – wishing all the while that she had a glass of water to help with her dry mouth, that all that cocktail drinking had caused. 

She was just about to stand up to see if the dizziness had gone, and to strip the bed, when she noticed the glass of water and tablets on her nightstand. How on earth did they get there? Had past Claire known that future Claire was going to have a stinking hangover and put them there? Surely, she wouldn’t have remember to do that, although it was a nice gesture and…

Holy fuck. 

Holy.   
Fuck. 

Jamie. 

Again. 

Claire felt like she was watching through a white cloudy screen, as her memory replayed the events that must have occurred in the early hours of this morning. The memories were flooding in, in fits and starts, while her brain tried to process them all and put them into some semblance of order. 

She had no recollection of getting into a taxi, paying or getting out. But had a slight twinge of a memory, that she must have taken her shoes off while being driven from the club to her cottage. She had no recollection of walking to the door, or how the keys had gotten in one hand. 

The first clear-ish memory she had had been Jamie standing in her doorway. Wait, wait, no his doorway. She’d gotten mixed up and had thought that Jamie’s cottage was her own. Bloody hell, how stupid could she be? Through the movie scene in her head, Claire couldn’t hear any of the words, but could see Jamie’s mouth moving. Probably explaining to a very drunk her that this was in fact his home and not hers. 

Claire half wished her brain wouldn’t show her anymore, because she didn’t know if she could physically take anymore of the secondhand embarrassment and the other half wished to know more, just so that she could think about Jamie. 

Back in the memory, she watched Jamie take her hand, and she could plainly see how small and dainty her hand was enveloped inside of Jamie’s much larger one. 

The next moment she could remember were both of them standing in her kitchen. She could recall the biting coldness of the sink, as she had leant against it and gripped its steel sides. Jamie must have been saying something to her again, but she wasn’t paying attention. All that mattered to her was finding out whether Jamie’s hair felt as soft as it looked.

Jamie had moved closer to her until he was close enough to touch. Her alcohol-addled mind had thought it a good idea, so she reached out and ran her fingers through his hair. 

Then it had escalated from there. 

It could have been the alcohol running through her bloodstream, or it could have just been the effect Jamie had on her, but Claire had felt like she was detached from anything but him. Her whole body existing, only to feel what Jamie’s lips felt like upon hers. 

She could recall the pure want that she had felt, but to her dismay, not the sensation of anything else of it. She couldn’t say whether Jamie’s locks were as soft as she thought, or how his grip had felt on her hip, or why the soles of her feet had become so dirty. The booze had sucked all that up, leaving Claire with just the plain basics of what had occurred. 

God, how she wished she could go back and do it all over again, but this time sober, so she could remember all the little bits and pieces. 

But God, how embarrassing, too. She must have looked all sloppy and uncoordinated, limbs and other body parts just flailing around. And then, to burp and almost vomit in the poor man’s face right as he leant in for a kiss. How on earth was she meant to face him ever again? Of course she’d have to, he bloody lived only next door, it wasn’t like she was never ever going to see him again. And, she definitely had to apologise for her actions… who knows what else she had done to him? Her memory of the incident stopped there, nothing about how she got upstairs and into bed. Or whatever else she might have said to Jamie and at what time he left. 

Please, just let him have left the painkillers and water next to her and then left, instead of hearing her mumble on and then watching her smear red lipstick all over the place. It was bad enough that he’d been in her bedroom in the first place, seeing all personal belongings and the mess of unworn clothes on the chair tucked underneath her vanity. 

Feeling quite vulnerable about the whole thing, Claire swallowed the two small white tablets with a slug of water, and then sat in thought, biting her lip. 

She couldn’t possibly face Jamie today. Her head hurt too much, her stomach was still rebelling and her body felt bruised and battered from dancing all night – she wasn’t even sure that she would be able to stand upright and change the bedding. She needed to think about what she was going to say to him when the time came. It would no good to just start spouting the first thing that came to mind. 

Fingers crossed he would take her apology. They could laugh about it and then move on, forgetting it ever happened and continue with the way they had been before. 

But, Claire wasn’t entirely sure that’s what she wanted. 

Both drunken Claire and sober Claire shared that pure want and desire at the thought of kissing Jamie. It made her body tingle from head to foot with excitement. A fire inside of her, that if she was being honest with herself, she hadn’t felt in a very, very long time since being with Frank. 

There was just something about Jamie that she was drawn too, and she was pretty certain in herself, that she didn’t want to just laugh and forget that it ever happened. 

Hopefully, Jamie felt the same way. But only time would tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and Happy October!
> 
> Hope you all are all doing well this week <3
> 
> Really hope you enjoy this chapter, I've got exciting plans for chapter nine and i can't wait to share them with you, next week!
> 
> Kudos and comments mean the world to me - so hope to chat with you in either the comments or at my tumblr :)
> 
> xoxo


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I couldn't wait until Sunday for you all to read this chapter, so i'm putting it up a bit earlier.
> 
> I hope you all love it!... For people who may be sensitive to this sort of thing, this chapter is NSFW. It's not explicit explicit, but i'm thinking i might have to up the rating in the future. 
> 
> Come chat with me in the comments or on my tumblr! Your comments and kudos mean the world to me! 
> 
> Enjoy friends xoxo

Claire was finally showing her age. 

People had commented throughout her stages in life that she looked way younger than her actual age. Genetics, a good skin routine, plenty of water and exercise, and a fair amount of good quality sleep meant that nobody ever thought Claire was anywhere near thirty – let a known turning the milestone in less than two months. 

But this particular hangover really showed that her body and mind weren’t as young as it once was. 

It took Claire two and a half days to recover from said hangover. Two days of trying to keep fluids down and trying not to gag at anything that wasn’t water, tea or multigrain crackers. 

Late Tuesday morning, she managed to pull herself together with the help of multiple cups of caffeine, and the knowledge that she had to be on duty for four hours at the hospital before she could get back home again. Work scrubs on, Claire sat on the sofa watching the beauty segment on the This Morning chat show, gulping down the last drops of her milky coffee and waiting for the beep of Geillis’ car horn to signal she was outside. 

When Geillis eventually did arrive, Claire placed the ceramic mug into the sink - making a right clatter as she did so – grabbed her handbag and phone, and was out the door and in Geillis’ car within a flash. 

“Have you still got a hangover? Or is it just me?” Claire asked, once Geillis had done a U-turn out of the tiny side street and back onto the main road.

“Aye, a little,” Geillis laughed, “Guess we’re not as young as we thought we were, eh?”

“Tell me about it. So…” Claire nudged Geillis’ shoulder knowingly, “How was the rest of your night after we left the club? How was Ryan?” 

“Ryan? Whose… Oh ye mean Liam?” 

Claire gave Geillis the side eye. “I can’t keep up.”

Geillis laughed out loud again, “Anyway, aye. Liam was great.”

“Just great? Great enough to keep around?”

“Nope,” Geillis popped her ‘p’. “Talking about around… have ye spoken to Tom since?” 

Claire turned her head to watch the fields whizzing by. “Um… no.”

“Ye sound strange, Claire,” Geillis pushed, “Did something happen when to ye’s left the club?”

“No, no, nothing like that.”

“What is it, then, lass?” 

“Jamie,” Claire mumbled quietly under her breath. 

“Didn’t quite catch that,” Geillis said.

“Jamie,” Claire mumbled again, a tad louder this time. 

Geillis leaned closer to her, as much as possible while driving, to be able to hear Claire more clearly. “Once more?”

“Bloody hell, Jamie!” Claire huffed. 

Geillis took her eyes off the road for a millisecond, to send Claire a confused look, “Ye fit neighbour, Jamie?”

“How many other Jamie’s do I know?” Claire asked, sarcastically, “Yes, him.” 

“What about him?”

So, Claire told to Geillis everything that she could possibly remember about Jamie Fraser - from him inviting her for a last drink before she left, to him helping her in the wee hours of the morning when she was in a state. 

Once she’d gotten out of her system everything that she wanted to say, Claire expected Geillis to fill the space with her input and chatter. But she didn’t. Instead, silence filled the car, both women processing just exactly what Claire had said. 

Eventually, Geillis cleared her throat and said seriously, “Did he take advantage of ye?”

“What?” Claire whipped her head to look at Geillis’ side profile, “No! Are you mad? I wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss me.”

“Then ye’ve gotta marry the lad, Claire,” Geillis said, matter of factly. 

“Marry him? What are you on about?” 

“Only a lad that’s in love with ye, or at least fancies the pants off ye, would do something like that. Neighbour or not.”

“You can’t be serious?” Claire exclaimed.

“Are ye telling me ye don’t think he fancies ye? Is that what ye saying?” Geillis asked.

Claire sat back in the passenger seat for a moment, before answering her friend’s question. “No. I don’t think that.”

Pulling into the underground hospital car park, Geillis took her offered ticket from the machine slot and drove through the now open barrier. She parked the car into the first empty space she found, unbuckled her seat belt and then twisted her body to face Claire. 

“Well, there ye go then. So, what ye planning on doing about it, eh?”

XxX

The four hours that Claire had originally been designated to work dragged on and on. Upon her arrival, she had been thrust immediately into checking up on a patient, correcting their current medication amount and then signing them out of the ward. From there, she had a stack of other patient paperwork that needed to be read over and then inputted into the new hospital computer format. 

Feeling like the caffeine she had gulped down at home, had now worn off, Claire walked to the break room – aware that her legs felt like large sticks of lead. She shoved the crappy paper cup under the dispenser, jammed her thumb over the latte button and waited while the coffee machine made a strange whirring noise inside. The dark liquid sloshed out in a straight line, hitting the inside of the cup and quickly filling up. The white frothy milk had just finished dripping from the nozzle, when Claire overheard Tom Christie’s voice talking to a cleaner. 

Claire grabbed the too full cup as fast as she could, burning three of her fingers in succession as some of the coffee spilled over the rim. She really didn’t want to cross paths with Tom just yet, not quite sure how she felt about the situation and what she would say to him. From where his voice came from, Claire could tell that he was close by. The corridor sounded to be the best bet, but she was unsure whether he would be coming into the break room or not. She didn’t want to go out into the corridor, but she didn’t want him to look through the large windows and see her, however she also needed to get the rest of her work done and the only other way out of the break room was through one of the senior surgeon’s offices. 

So, she did the next best thing she could think of – she hid. Behind the plant pot, to be exact, which held a large green leaf fern. It was at times like these that Claire wished she were shorter in height, so that she didn’t have to bend down so much. Claire took a sip of her coffee to relax herself and then strained her ears for sounds other than her own harsh breathing. Five beats went by, and both the break room and the corridor now sounded deserted. Thinking it pretty certain that the coast was clear of Tom, Claire straightened up – her two knees cracking loudly as she did so. 

“Claire?” A voice said behind her. 

Whipping around, Claire found herself face to face with one of her bosses. He was dressed smartly, a travel mug in his own hand and a confused expression on his face. 

“You alright?” He asked. 

“Mhm,” Claire pressed her own paper cup to her lips and took a larger drink. “Was there something you wanted?”

“Were you just…” He started to say, and then thought better of it. “Actually, yes. I planned to come and find you later on. I’ve hired a new nurse, Mary, her name is, and I wondered if you might be able to spot her?”

Not wanting to say no, because it was her boss, Claire forced the words out, “Um… yes, certainly.” 

“Brilliant! Thank you, Claire. Pop into my office before you clock off, and I should have Mary’s timetable written up by then, so you can work out shifts and the like.” 

Claire nodded. “Will do,” she said, pivoting on her heel to turn towards the door that led into the corridor. 

His voice broke her stride. 

“I did see you crouched behind the plant pot, didn’t I? Before I came in? Or was I seeing things?” 

Claire peered to look at her boss over her shoulder. “I was just checking it had enough water,” she said, and then before he could say anything else she chucked a “See you later,” over her shoulder and scarpered away. 

Claire thought that staying busy would make the work hours go by faster. They didn’t. She’d drank what must have been a vat of coffee and a gallon of water to stay awake and alive, and all she had to show for it was that she needed to use the loo, constantly. 

Thankfully, other than the slight scare in the break room, Claire had managed to not cross paths with Tom – something she was immensely relieved at. Just before she was about to scan her ID badge and clock off, she popped into her boss’ office to get some more information about the new nurse she would be working with in the future. That in its self took way longer than expected, and so it was around 5pm by the time Claire hightailed it out of the hospital building and onto the next available bus home. 

Back into the comfort and safety of her own home, Claire exchanged her boxy work scrubs for her usual home attire; leggings, a camisole and, (because it was officially September now, and the cold Scottish air was beginning to creep in) an oversized fluffy cardigan with pockets, of course. 

After having spent a good few days where the thought of food made her stomach flip, Claire felt in the mood for a mixture of different things. She filled a plate with some cut up fresh fruit, a wodge of cheese, crackers, coleslaw, crisps, biscuits and a cup of tea to dip said biscuits into. With food and drink in tow, Claire placed the platter onto her glass coffee table, and then plonked herself down onto the sofa – emitting a huge sigh, as she felt the relief of being off her feet for the first time all day. 

Feet tucked up underneath her bum, Claire draped a soft blanket over her lap and loaded up Monday’s episode of her guilty pleasure, reality TV show, ‘Made in Chelsea’. With the show recap starting, Claire dug into her variety of foods, feeling very happy with herself. 

The idea had popped into Claire’s head while she had been staring blankly at the square telly screen. One of the stars of the show had been talking about apologising, and that had sent Claire down a spiral about when she would speak to Jamie next. She needed to apologise to him about the state she had been in, so she knew the ball was definitely in her court. 

Knowing herself as well as she did, Claire knew that if she didn’t speak to him soon, the anxiety would just eat her up inside. Heart hammering away in her chest, Claire checked the time on her phone, 5:48pm and decided there was no time like the present. If she did it now then she wouldn’t have to sit and dwell on it, and anyway her telly show had finished, so what else was there for her to do?

She would just knock on his door and apologise. I mean, he might still be out and not even answer the door and she would have to try again another day. 

Cleaning up after herself, she slid her phone into her cardigan pocket and shoved her bare feet into a pair of fluffy sliders. Locking the door behind herself, Claire placed the keys into her pocket with her phone and walked up the path to Jamie’s white front door. Taking the door knocker, she rapped with it three hard times to make sure he would be able to hear that somebody was at his door. 

After what felt to be an eternity, the door cracked open and Jamie appeared, mobile phone held up to his ear. 

“Claire?” He said, sounding surprised. 

“Is this a bad time?” She asked, wringing her hands in front of herself.

Jamie shook his head, a red lock of hair flopping onto his forehead with the momentum of his shaking head. “What? No, no,” he said to Claire, and then to the mystery person on the phone, “Look Ian, mate, I’m gonna have to go. Give everybody me love. Bye.” 

Ending the call, he shoved his phone into his jogger pants pocket and moved his attention back to Claire. 

“Ye alright? Wanna come in? I owe ye a drink,” He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the kitchen behind him.

“Sure,” Claire nodded, and then stopped in case Jamie thought she looked like a nodding dog. 

“What would ye like to drink?” Jamie asked, when she had shut the door behind herself and found him looking at her. 

Claire smiled at him, “It completely depends on what you have.”

Jamie chuckled at that. “I’ve got water, tea, coffee, beer, whiskey, vodka or gin. Take ye pick.”

“I’m impressed, that’s quite the collection you have there. But after the day I’ve had, I think I’ll take the whiskey.” 

“Sounds good to me, lass. I’ll get us two glasses and we can sit in the living room.” 

Jamie dumped a couple of cubes of ice into two glasses and then filled them both up halfway with light amber liquid. Handing one of the glasses to her, Claire followed Jamie into his living room, where they both sat on his sofa. Claire had major déjà vu as she sat supping the whiskey, trying her hardest to get some liquid courage from it.

It had only been a short while since Jamie had been sitting on her sofa, dropping off a parcel, introducing himself and snooping through her picture frames. It didn’t help that Jamie’s cottage layout was identical to hers, the only difference being the interior décor inside. 

Having no coffee table, Jamie had just placed his glass down onto the laminate floor beside his bare foot. Too nervous to break the ice and actually say what she came over to say, Claire sat, eyes never moving from the telly, taking tiny sips of alcohol for something to do. She could feel Jamie’s eyes burning into the side of her face, so she really wasn’t surprised when he grabbed the telly remote from underneath his leg and turning the volume down. 

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Claire jumped in with the first thing that came to mind. “I’m impressed. Think you’ve got a bigger book collection than me.”

Jamie couldn’t help himself from laughing. “Aye, I’ve always loved reading. Used to get teased by the other kids for it, but me Mam made up for it by sneaking me extra money to spend at the bookshop – so, jokes on them.”

Claire smiled at the little anecdote that Jamie had shared with her, “I like the sound of your mum. But I never did understand why kids are so cruel. What do you usually read?”

“Thrillers mainly, sometimes a bit of romance sprinkled in there. Yeself? Don’t think I didn’t notice all those geography books you have stacked up, ye study or something in ye spare time?”

Claire grasped the cold glass in both hands as she answered. “I can never get into thrillers, I either guess the plotline halfway through, or I get scared shitless and can’t finish it.” Again, Jamie couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling out of him. “And no, I don’t study geography in my spare time. I travelled a lot with my uncle for his job as a young girl. So, I buy the books as mementos of places we visited.”

“What’s his job?” Jamie asked.

“He’s an archeologist, so we travelled to explore digs and help out some of his work friends. And yes,” Claire held up a hand to stop him in case he said anything, “before you ask, I did miss a lot of written school work, but my uncle always said to was best to learn in the real world on the job.”

“Dinny worry lass, ye secret’s safe with me. So, you travelled for most of the years then?”

Claire nodded. 

“Did ye mam and dad not miss ye, what with them being in England and you being abroad? Or did they travel with ye and ye uncle?”

Claire looked down in the glass she held at the tiny bit of whiskey that she had left. She raised the glass to her lips and knocked it back, leant down to place the empty glass on the floor and then studied her clasped hands that sat in her lap. She couldn’t face to say the words to Jamie, so instead directed them down towards her hands. 

“My parents died when I was around 6 or so. Car crash. My father drove, while my mother sat in the passenger seat and I in the back. A drunk driver plowed into the side of our car, killing my mother on impact. Our car tipped upside down and by the time the firemen came to rescue us, my father had also passed away – internal bleeding. I was the only one to make it out alive. My dad’s brother, my Uncle Lamb, became my legal guardian, and he’s looked after me ever since.” 

As usual when Claire told her story, silence followed. A silence that was dark around the edges and hollow in the middle. Sometimes, that’s how Claire felt on the inside, dark around the edges and a hollow shell in the middle.

She heard Jamie’s throat catch, and a staggered breath follow, as he obviously tried to find the words to say to her. The whole time she had been explaining, Claire had been able to keep the tears at bay, but when she felt Jamie’s large, warm hand touch her own, the tears filled up in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Claire mumbled, as she tried to stem the tears that were now overflowing out of her tear ducts. 

Jamie stood up, disappeared into the kitchen and was back again in a flash, with a roll of kitchen roll in his hand. Sitting back down, he ripped off a square and handed it over to Claire. “There ain’t any need for ye to be sorry, Claire. I’m the one who’s sorry, being an eejit and bringing it up.”

“You weren’t to know,” She said thickly, using the kitchen roll to dab at her eyes, and rub her streaming nose. “God, I bet I look a right mess.” 

“Look at me,” Jamie commanded, and Claire peered up at him involuntarily. “Ye not a mess, Claire. Ye’re never a mess, I promise.” 

“Thank you, Jamie. But I really am sorry…”

“I won’t have ye say it again, Claire…”

“I meant for Saturday. That’s why I came over here in the first place,” She said. 

Jamie pulled a confused face, “What about Saturday?”

“Saturday, or early Sunday morning, whenever it was,” Claire shrugged. “When you helped me get home, remember. I came to apologise for the state I must have been in, and anything I might have said to you.” 

Jamie shook his head at her, “Ye didn’t say or do anything to me lass, dinny ye worry. Ye were drunk, and I helped ye home is all.” 

“Are you sure?” Claire asked. 

“Aye. I’m guessing ye dinny remember most of it?”

Claire balled up the now damp kitchen roll into the palm of her hand. “I remember some bits and not others,” She answered. 

“Like?” Jamie prompted.

“I don’t remember how to bottom of my feet got so dirty. But I do remember our almost kiss.” Her eyes met Jamie’s bright blue ones as the words tumbled out of her mouth.

Slowly, Jamie spoke, “The bottoms of ye feet go so dirty because ye took ye heels off and was walking around outside bare foot. And the almost kiss was probably more of an almost vomit, if we’re being honest.”

“I’m sorry.”

Raising both of his eyebrows, Jamie said, “For the almost kiss?”

“No,” Claire replied honestly, shaking her head. “For the almost vomit. I’m not at all sorry for the almost kiss.”  
“Ye not?” Jamie asked sounding quite surprised.

“No,” Claire said again, “I wanted you to kiss me.”

Jamie picked up on her use of past tense, “Wanted?”

“Want,” Claire corrected herself. 

Jamie scootched over until he was sitting close to enough to Claire for their thighs to touch one another. He leant in until their faces were inches apart and when he spoke softly, Claire could feel the warmth of his living breath on her lips. 

“Is it wrong that I wanna kiss ye so bad, even after what ye’ve just told me?” He asked her. 

Instead of answering, Claire shook her head. 

“Can I kiss ye, Claire?” 

Claire’s body shivered with the proximity of Jamie’s body and the question he had just asked her. 

“Ask me out first, Mr Fraser.”

Jamie smiled wickedly, “I shouldn’t like that as much as I do. Go out with me, Claire?”

Claire managed to get the word, ‘okay’ out before Jamie’s lips descended onto hers. His lips were smoother and warmer than she had expected, ghosting over hers again and again, until she felt his tongue trace the seam of her lips in a silent question. Claire lifted her arms up, looped them around Jamie’s neck and pulled him even closer toward her. Jamie placed one large hand on her upper thigh and one large hand behind her ear, tilting her head up as she opened up and his hot tongue tangled with hers.

Claire’s moan surprised both of them. A sound that Jamie swallowed, claiming it as his own as his hand rubbed up and down her legging cladded thigh in a soothing manner. 

Claire could simply describe it as feeling hot all over, so hot that she seemed to be burning from the inside out. Her insides had turned to jelly, as her brain worked overtime to keep up with all of the different nerve endings that were firing off. Her mind flickered from one thing to another; the feel of the sofa dipping beneath her, the smell of Jamie - a mixture of deodorant, aftershave, clean clothes and man. The heat from Jamie’s hand that rested on her thigh, the heat of his tongue dancing with hers, the weight of his other hand behind her ear which maneuvered her to his liking. 

Claire was pretty familiar with the tingly feeling of desire that was shooting through her, and that particular ache that settled itself on her breasts and in between her legs. 

Claire opened her eyes as she felt Jamie nibble her full bottom lip and then draw back from her slightly. At the same time, Jamie opened his eyes, probably to gauge her reaction, and Claire wasn’t at all shocked to see how dilated his pupils were. 

Leaving his hands where they were, Jamie whispered to her, “I think we should stop before we go to far.”

Claire nodded yes, but surged forward again, just to place one last chaste kiss upon his lips. Jamie smiled brightly at her afterwards, and Claire knew the same sort of goofy smile was being reflected back to him.   
She knew full well that things weren’t going to go any further tonight, and the logical half of her brain knew that was for the best. But various parts of her body told another story. Underneath her camisole top, Claire could feel her nipples like two hard points, scraping against the lace of her bra and begging to be touched. The ache that had settled between her legs was much of the same story – an unbearable weight that she tried to relieve by subtly rubbing her legs together.

Apparently she wasn’t as subtle as she thought she was, because Jamie’s eyes followed the small movement, jumped to Claire’s eyes and then back down to her legs. He laughed in a breathy sort of way, and smirked at her, “Ye not the only one.” 

“Thank god for that.”

“So, what days are ye free for our date?” Jamie asked, changing the subject in an attempt to regain some composure.

“Mhmm…” Claire hummed, as she tried to imagine the hospital work schedule that was pinned to the notice board, “Sunday?”

“Sunday’s good for me. I’ll pick you up at 1 – wear something casual,” he told her. 

“Already got a plan?” 

Jamie bobbed his head, “Yep, and no, I’m not telling you. It can be a surprise.”

Claire laughed at his ridiculousness. “At least take my mobile number, just in case you need to reach me.”

“Reach you? Claire, ye live next door, ye fruitcake. I can just knock on ye door, if I need to speak to ye,” Jamie took his phone out of his jogger pocket, opened up his contacts list and then looked up at Claire expectantly. “Go on, then.” 

Claire reeled off her eleven digits number, while Jamie keyed it in and then pressed save. 

“I’ll text ye later and that way ye can save my number as well.” 

“I will. Anyway, I should probably getting going, I start work at 4am, so need all the sleep I can get. 

“Aye, of course, come on, I’ll walk ye oot.” 

“I’ll see you on Sunday, Jamie,” Claire called as she walked down his front garden path and back towards the way she had originally come. 

Claire hadn’t been lying to Jamie; she really did have to get up ungodly early tomorrow morning for her shift at the hospital, so it was straight into bed for her when she got back home. Clean pair of pajamas on, and tucked up in bed, Claire flicked through the telly channels to find something relaxing to fall asleep too. 

She usually found it hard to fall asleep when it was still so early outside and most people were still awake, but this evening more so than usual because of Jamie. His whole presence had her body lighting up and screaming for him to touch her. 

He'd been a gentleman, as expected and not overstepped any boundaries, so tonight Claire knew she had to take matters in to her own hands if she wanted any chance of falling asleep. 

Closing her eyes and picturing the way Jamie had kissed her, Claire slipped her hand beneath her grey pyjama bottoms. Sitting on Jamie’s sofa, she’d been aware of how wet she was, and nothing had changed even though she was now alone. Gathering some of the wetness she had produced onto her fingertips, Claire dragged it up to her bud. With her other hand she pushed up her top, exposing her breasts and plucking one of her stiff nipples. 

Claire let out a helpless whimper as she imagined what it would be like for Jamie to lie down next to her and watch the way she was touching herself. She moaned louder, as her fingertips traced circles around her clit – a combination of slow and fast, and soft and hard. 

A handful of minutes later, Claire felt herself edging towards her orgasm. The warm feeling built and built and built from her center, catching her breath and making her toes curls against the bed sheets. Until at last it became too much and she broke, waves and waves of hot pleasure burning throughout her whole body, turning herself pliant and boneless. She continued to circle her clit with feather light strokes, until she became too sensitive and drew her hand out of her trousers. 

Blowing out a breath, Claire waited till she could no longer hear the blood pumping through her body. Happy that she had been able to take the edge off for the night, she cleaned up, got back into bed and then rolled over till she lay on her side. She allowed herself to wonder whether Jamie, too, had had to relieve some of the pressure she had caused. Or, as Geillis would probably so delicately put it, wank.

She quickly shut down that down, when her body pricked up its ears at the thought of it – she would allow herself to think about it more when she didn’t have to be up so early. She wasn’t going to get enough sleep as it was. 

With a smile overtaking her face, Claire drifted off to sleep, excited like a kid at Christmas for her date with Jamie on Sunday. God, how she had missed this feeling.


	10. Chapter Ten

Straight after Claire had left on Tuesday evening, Jamie did a number of different things. 

First, he cleared away the dirty cups. Then he ran upstairs, turned the shower on hot and jumped under the spray. He dunked his head under the water; till his hair was two shades darker than usual and droplets of water were dripping off his nose. Unable to take it any longer, Jamie propped his right hand up onto the cold tiled wall, and moved his left, down to his hardening cock. 

He moved from the tip of his cock down to the base, squeezing and twisting his wrist as he moved back to the tip again. Over and over he repeated the motion, closing his eyes and picturing Claire in his mind’s eye. In it, she straddled him on the sofa that they had both sat on not an hour ago. She ground on top of him as he hardened, moving her hips back and forth over and over, in a steady rhythm. Jamie stroked his cock faster and faster, his breath coming in pants. Feeling his balls tighten up, Jamie groaned as he came in ribbons all over his hand. 

Cleaning all over his body with body wash, Jamie turned off the shower and then wrapped the nearest towel around his waist. He dressed in another pair of jogging bottoms, this time forgoing a shirt, before he walked downstairs to put the kettle on. 

The third thing Jamie did was check his phone. He’d put the phone down on Ian when he’d greeted Claire at the door. And then, when he’d opened up his phone app and keyed in Claire’s mobile number, he’d seen the amount of texts that both Ian and Jenny had sent him via the group chat.

Ian Murray to Jenny’s bitches [6:01pm] is that Claire? 

****

****

Ian Murray to Jenny’s bitches [6:02pm] did ye just blow me off to speak to Claire?

Jenny Fraser Murray to Jenny’s bitches [6:08pm] Claire?

Jenny Fraser Murray to Jenny’s bitches [6:08pm] what about Claire?

Jenny Fraser Murray to Jenny’s bitches [6:09pm] !!!

Ian Murray to Jenny’s bitches [6:12pm] keep up woman. he put the phone down on me so that he could talk to Claire…

Jenny Fraser Murray to Jenny’s bitches [6:14pm] nee bugger wants to speak to ye ugly mug anyway

Jenny Fraser Murray to Jenny’s bitches [6:15pm] tell us if ye at least invited the lass in…?

Ian Murray to Jenny’s bitches [6:16pm] aye, don’t leave us hanging lad

Jenny Fraser Murray to Jenny’s bitches [6:17pm] Brother?

Jenny Fraser Murray to Jenny’s bitches [6:23pm] Ian come wash Maggie for me

There wasn’t enough money in the world to convince Jamie to spill any of the details of anything that had gone down tonight, even to Ian. So instead, he typed into the group chat;

Jamie Fraser to Jenny’s bitches [8:09pm] can yous not talk to each other instead of using the group chat? And aye, ofc I invited her in 

Ian Murray to Jenny’s bitches [8:11pm] no we canny

Jenny Fraser Murray changed the chat to Jamie thinks Claire is fit

Jenny Fraser Murray to Jamie thinks Claire is fit [8:14pm]  
Did ye kiss her???

Jamie Fraser to Jamie thinks Claire is fit [8:16pm] ye better change the name Janet I swear to god

Jamie Fraser to Jamie thinks Claire is fit [8:16pm] I’ve gotta date on Sunday 

Ian Murray changed the chat to Jamie’s going on a date w/ Claire !!!

Jenny Fraser Murray changed the chat to Jamie’s in love w/ Claire !!

Jamie Fraser to Jamie’s in love w/ Claire !! [8:18pm] I’m never speaking to yous again

Jamie knew that Ian and Jenny were going to take the piss out of him like this. He’d expected nothing less. After the kiss tonight, he was fairly confident that his and Claire’s date on Sunday was going to go swimmingly. But still he hoped it didn’t backfire, simply so that he wouldn’t have to hear Ian and Jenny go on and on. 

Hitting the Facetime button on his phone, Jamie listened to the repeating dial tone as he waited for them to pick up. 

“That you, Jamie?” His dad asked when he finally pressed the green accept button.

“Aye, it’s me dad. No, dad, tilt the phone down so I can see you,” 

“Can ye see me now?” 

“Move the phone further away from ye. Aye, there ye go.” Now that Jamie could see his Dad, he could make out the same ratty chair that his Dad always sat on when watching telly in the living room. “Where’s Mam?”

“Making a cuppa. Hang on… Ellen? Ellen? Lass? Jamie’s on the Facetime.” Brian shouted, “Ah, here she is.” 

Out of frame, his Mam handed his Dad a mug of steaming hot tea and then took the phone so that she held it. For a moment, Jamie could see nothing but darkness as his Mam held the camera to her chest as she sat down on the sofa. 

“How are ye, me lad?” Ellen asked, when she’d gotten comfy. 

“I’m doing good. And ye?” 

“Aye, of course we are. Just sitting down to watch an episode of Heartbeat.”

“Sounds good. I’m actually calling to say, I canny make Sunday,” Jamie said. 

“Again?” Brian called. “Why now? Last week was to go oot with ye friends, so what’s so important this weekend, hm?” Ellen stayed silent, but did raise one of her eyebrows in question.

No matter how old he got, when his Brian raised his voice in that manner, Jamie felt like 16 all over again. “I’ve gotta date,” He spat out quickly. 

It was quiet for a beat, and then his Mam let out a bird like screech. 

“With who?” His Dad asked as the same time his Mam said, “Ye what?” 

“I’ve got a date,” Jamie said more clearly this time. 

“With who?” His Dad repeated. 

Through the small camera lens, Jamie watched as his Dad reached across to take the phone out of his Mam’s hand, but she wasn’t having any of it. Batting Brian’s hand away, she moved the phone till it was out of his reach. 

“Shhh.” Ellen said, directing her attention to her husband and continuing to flap her hand, “Shut up, darling, will you.” Then she turned the full attention back to her son. 

“Are ye going oot with Claire?” 

Jamie peered at his Mam’s face. A face that looked like butter wouldn’t melt, but had just asked him a bombshell of a question. 

“Ye what?” Jamie spoke tightly through his teeth. 

“Claire. Ye next door neighbour, Claire. Jenny told me about her.” 

“What did she say?”

Ellen didn’t seem to notice or care that Jamie’s cheeks were becoming redder and redder by the second. “Not much, just that ye had a new next door neighbour, and she was called Claire and she was single.” 

“Mam.” Jamie reprimanded. “I’m no even surprised that she told ye, but I’m still gonna kill her.”

“That’s all ye sister said…”

Jamie raised his eyebrow in a mirror image of his Mam’s previous expression, “I dinna believe ye” 

“Janet told us that ye fancied the woman,” His Dad shouted his input. 

Jamie scoffed, “For fucks sake.” 

“Language,” Ellen scolded. “So is it true?”

“Is what part of it true?” Jamie asked, running his free hand through his hair and stretching his legs out on the sofa that he now sat on. 

“Are ye going oot with Claire?” Ellen’s face was beaming with excitement, and it made Jamie smile softly back at her. 

“Aye. But don’t go getting ahead of yerself, Mam, no telling anybody at church, do ye hear me?”

“What do ye take me for, lad, a gossip, eh?”

Jamie nodded, “Aye, ye are. Da don’t let her go around telling every Tom, Dick and Harry, will ye.”

Ellen turned the camera around so that Jamie could see his Dad. Like father like son, Brian had his legs propped up, watching the telly with rapt attention. 

“He’s no even listening to ye, Jamie. So, where ye taking her?”

“I’m thinking Fergus’ place.”

XxX

Sunday morning arrived quickly, almost as if the universe was as excited for Jamie, as Jamie was to see Claire again. 

Dressed in a smart black button down, blue denim washed jeans and a pair of vans, Jamie knocked on Claire’s white door at exactly 1 o’clock, with a bunch of flowers in hand. 

“Hi,” Claire said simply, when she opened the door to greet him. 

“Hi,” Jamie replied, feeling unsure of himself and a wee bit shy, he’d forgotten just how long it had been since he’d last been on a date. “These are for ye,” He extended out the bunch of flowers that he held. “Thought ye old housewarming ones might be dead by now.” 

Claire smiled widely, and said, “Thank you, Jamie. Come on in, I’ll get these in some water, put my shoes on and then were ready to go.” She took the flowers from him as he stepped inside. Claire turned her back to him to grab the clean but empty vase from the windowsill, and Jamie was able to sneak a proper look at her. She had on a purple camisole with thick straps to hold it up, sitting on her exposed collarbones. Her legs were covered up by a black pair of slim leg trousers. They hugged her tall frame all the way down to her ankles, giving Jamie a fantastic view of her spectacular arse, especially as she leant over the sink to let tap water run into the glass vase. 

“Glad ye wore trousers,” Jamie said, as he stood in her kitchen. 

Still filling up the vase, Claire turned to give him a quizzical look. 

“Not that there’s anything wrong with your legs,” Jamie babbled, hoping he didn’t come across the wrong way, “There’s nothing wrong with them at all, in fact I really like them, they make you look tall… Well, of course they make her tall Jamie, they’re legs…” God, now he was talking out loud to himself. He looked up to see Claire not saying anything, but looking at him with a bemused smile across her face. “I’m making a right tit of this, aren’t I?”

“Mhm,” Claire hummed in agreement. 

“Just it’ll be comfier to wear trousers when you get in the saddle…oh for fucks sake.” 

“Excuse me?” Claire asked, one eyebrow raised. 

“Shit, horse riding. I planned on taking you horse riding today, if ye’re up for it. Obviously it would be comfier to wear trousers when ye’re on the horse. In the saddle, the horse’s saddle, definitely not mine, well I mean not definitely… I’m stopping now… quit laughing at me.”

Claire couldn’t contain her laughter, Poor Jamie with his cheeks flushed bright red and stumbling all over his words. Leaving the water filled vase on the kitchen counter, Claire made her way to stand right in front of Jamie. Reaching up, she placed her hand along his jawline and stroked her thumb along the slash of red that coated his prominent cheekbones. “You’re too sweet, Jamie,” She said as she pressed her lips to his. 

He could taste the vanilla of her lip gloss as she kissed him, and he knew that the flavour would be remind him of Claire for all eternity. Pulling back a breadth, Jamie whispered, “We aren’t supposed to kiss until the end of the date.” 

“Says who?” Claire whispered back, “I’ve never followed the rules or done what everyone else was doing before. Why should I start now, eh? And we’ve already kissed, so that’s your theory right out the window, I’m afraid.” 

“Mm, true,” He managed to get out, before he pressed his lips back onto Claire, just so that he could feel her warmth and taste her vanilla lip gloss once more. 

Claire’s hands slid down towards the top button of his shirt, and he could feel her fingertips dancing as if deciding to undo the button. Jamie moved his own hands to gently grip both of her wrists and guide them back down to her sides, Claire making a disgruntled sound in the back of her throat as he did so. 

“It’s not that I don’t want you to, believe me. It’s just that one; I’ve embarrassed myself enough and I don’t need you seeing that my blush travels all the way down my neck right this second and two; we’ll be late otherwise.”

“Will I get to see the blush at a later date?” Claire asked cheekily, turning back around to dump the flower food and flowers into the tepid water. 

“Mm, we’ll see,” Jamie replied. “So, horse riding? You feel okay about it? We can do something else if not…”  
“Stop worrying, it sounds fun! I’ve ridden a camel a handful of times, when my Uncle and I visited the Middle East, but never a horse… How hard can it be?”

Much harder, apparently. 

Inside Jamie’s car, on the drive to the Hollyhead equestrian center, Jamie explained that it was actually the place where Fergus worked. They taught anybody of any age, and even did packages for special occasions, birthdays, Christmases, hen parties, that sort of thing. 

Jamie had grown up his whole life riding horses on his family farm at Lallybroch, so Fergus trusted him enough to be able to teach Claire himself. They would be going on a hack, Jamie explained, basically horse terms for a walk through the forest that stood nearby. With the car parked up in the gravelly car park, Jamie led Claire past the tack rooms and into the stables behind. 

“Where is everyone?” Claire asked, as Jamie unbolted the main stable door. 

“At home, it’s Sunday.”

“So how…?”

“The woman who owns and runs Hollyhead only lives down the road. She’ll make sure all the horses have enough food and water to last the day, and she had cameras up all around in case something goes wrong and she’s needed. I worked here before I went into business with Angus, ye see. It was actually me who got wee Fergus the job, or should I say he filled the position that I had left.” 

“And the woman just let you hire out two horses for the entire day? For us?”

“Pretty much. Now come on, we need to get you a helmet and onto the saddle, before I can even teach you anything,” Jamie said. 

In the stable block, both Jamie and Claire were met with the smell and the sight of eight different horses; palominos, shires and even a tiny Shetland pony. “I thought it might be best if I ride Domino,” Jamie gestured to the dark horse standing right in front of him, “and ye can have Tyson, I promise he’s as soft as muck,” He pointed to the lighter coloured horse that stood in front of Claire. 

“Sure,” Claire said, stretching her hand out for Tyson to sniff her. Then when he did so, she ran the palm of her hand down his velvety nose, pleasantly surprised when he huffed out of his nostrils and his warm breath tickled her palm. 

“I’ll get them tacked up, go and see if ye can find two helmets, will ye? They should just be some on that shelf by the door.” 

Jamie began the process of placing a saddle on each horse and tacking them up with everything, including the bridal collar. With a set of reins in both hands, he turned to find Claire. She already had her helmet secured on her head, another one in her hands, and could be found watching Jamie intently as he went about tacking up Domino and Tyson. 

“Well, you’re quite the natural, aren’t you, Mr Fraser,” She said, stepping closer and taking the offered reins of Tyson. 

“I’ll tell ye more about it when we get going. First, ye need to get on,” Jamie patted his free hand on Tyson’s leather saddle. “Hold on to the front of the saddle and just place ye left foot into the stirrup and then swing ye right leg up and around till ye’re seated.” 

Claire had always thought of herself as fit and flexible, what with all the walking at work and yoga she did, but seemingly that didn’t matter when trying to get onto a living, breathing, moving creature. To his credit, Tyson stood as still as he could, while Claire hiked her leg up over and over again, but he still had to breathe and his breath caused a swaying motion. After her fifth or sixth failed attempt, Jamie took pity on her. 

“Here, here, I’ll help,” He said, looping Domino’s reins to a hook that protruded from the wall. “Give me ye left foot and I’ll give ye a boost up.” 

With both hands on the lip of the saddle, Claire placed her trainer clad left foot into the cradle of Jamie’s hand. On the count of three, Jamie hoisted Claire’s leg up as she pushed up from the ground with her other foot. She managed to get about halfway up, before Jamie grabbed the back of her thigh, right below her arse, and threw her the rest of the way up. Finally situated, Claire looked down at him from her perch. 

“Did you just…”

“I had to get ye up someway,” Jamie said, shrugging his broad shoulders, and then turning to attention to the lesson. “Okay, so hold the reins in both hands, ye thumb needs to be on top and then thread the leather between ye’re ring finger and pinky… I know I’m handsome Claire, but I need ye to focus on what I’m showing ye, instead of my face.” 

Claire shook her head, as if to clear her mind of whatever she had been thinking about. “Right, sorry, I’m listening now.” 

Jamie placed his hands over Claire’s, as he moved the reins to the correct positions, mumbling a, “Sorry they’re cold,” as he did so. Walking back round to the front of the horse, Jamie checked on either side of Tyson, to see if the stirrups needed making shorter or longer. By the length of Claire’s legs, they needed to be made longer. As he approached Claire’s right side, he explained exactly what it was that he needed to fix. “Take ye foot out of the stirrup for me. I just need to make them longer.” 

Claire removed her foot and let her leg dangle free as Jamie reached underneath the side of the saddle. Jamie heard as she inhaled and then held her breath. Not surprising, considering that he had his hands underneath her thighs with just a thick bit of leather and trouser fabric to separate his hand and her bare skin. Jamie tugged until it became longer and then did the same thing on the other side. 

“Right, there ye go. I’ll hold the stirrups still for ye, and I need ye to move ye’re feet back until ye heels hang down and ye balls of feet feel the metal stirrup below.” With a minor bit of shuffling, Claire was able to complete the task without much assistance this time around. 

“Last is the walking. Old Tyson here won’t do more than walk or perhaps trot, so all ye need to know is; press ye knees in his side to start him walking and pull back on the reins with both hands to make him stop. Give it a go.” 

Claire dug her knees into both sides of the horse’s flank, expecting Tyson to maybe go off like a shot, but in fact, he didn’t move at all. 

“Harder,” Jamie said, “Ye need to push harder than ye think. Horses don’t feel it as much as humans, and ye need to be firm. They can smell fear, ye know, and lazy as. Ye’ve gotta show him whose boss, otherwise he’ll start leading ye round, instead.” 

Claire pressed her knees in a tab bit harder this time, and Tyson began to walk forward. “Now pull on the reins,” Jamie directed. Pulling on the reins, not hard enough to yank his head back, but enough to tighten his bit in his mouth, Tyson stopped still. 

“Ye’re a natural,” Jamie praised, securing the helmet with the fastener under his chin. “Well, be off in no time.” Left foot in the stirrup, Jamie swung himself around into the saddle, in a much more graceful fashion than Claire had done. 

“Showoff,” Claire muttered under her breath. 

“I heard that,” Jamie quipped back. “Let’s be off then.” 

Both horses walked quietly side by side as they left the stables behind and the edge of the forest came into focus. Jamie, too, stayed quiet, letting Claire get used to the gentle rocking movement of the horse beneath her and breathe in the fresh air. 

“This is beautiful,” Claire spoke up, after gazing at the lush, green fields that surrounded them on both sides. 

“It is, isn’t it, I always surround myself with nature when things get tough.” 

Claire nodded, “I do the same thing. So, you were going to tell me about the horses?” 

The seasons in Scotland were changing rapidly; from summer into autumn, and it meant the wind had been picking up in speed. It picked up some of the brown, red and golden leaves that had fallen from the trees, lifting them, swirling them and creating a whirlpool. Jamie could feel the coolness of it sweep through his hair, and when he took his eyes off of the Scottish greenery to look over at Claire, he could see that the curls in the front of Claire’s hair were effected by the wind too. 

The light from the sun dimmed as they entered the forest, a canopy of thick trees overhead. Jamie waited until they had both ducked underneath a low-lying branch before he answered Claire’s question. 

“I grew up on a farm, so I learned to ride from being a kid. We had all sorts of animals; cows, goats, pigs, sheep, horses and a handful of stray dogs and cats. From an early age, my Da had me and my sister, and other kids from the village, helping out on the farm. Anytime we weren’t at school, we were in the fields. Messing about usually, but we did get some work done, I guess.” 

“Wow! That’s amazing! Do your parents still have the farm?” Claire asked.

“Yeah, it’s called Lallybroch.” Jamie smiled at the thought of his home.” My Da still works on it so does my brother-in-law, Ian. Da makes the money by selling the milk, making cheese and raising and selling on the animals to the butchers down the road from the farm.”

“Did you enjoy growing up there?”

“Aye, I loved it. Jenny and me knew no different, so that played a part in it. But I loved spending most of my time outdoors, didn’t matter what the season was, me, Da and Ian would be outside – mucking out, or just playing football, and then we’d all come inside and Mam and Jenny would have made something nice for dinner.” 

“So what made you leave the farm?” 

“I wanted something different, you know,” Claire dipped her head in understanding, “I love my family, I do and I’m beyond grateful for them, but they can be a bit much. We always end up arguing when we’ve been cooped up together for too long – so the job opportunity felt right when it came up.” 

“Well, I’m glad you stayed true to yourself and picked something you enjoyed doing. Do you see your family often?” Claire said. 

“Aye, usually every Sunday, we get together and my Mam makes a roast…”

Claire interrupted him, “So you mean…?” 

“Aye, I cancelled today. But it’s worth it to spend time with ye, Claire.” Jamie winked at her, and she smiled back at him, rolling her eyes playfully.

After a short while, the dark canopy of the forest, with its heady earthy smell and constant birdsong – opened up and gave away into larger expanses of rolling hills. Jamie and Claire spent part of their time together in silence, enjoying the nature that surrounded them both. A blue sky sat above them, with just a smattering of white fluffy clouds drifting across. In front of them, the lush green hills could be seen with the eye, running for miles – with cows ambling about in one large pasture, sheep grazing in another and a bit further along, a field of thick, golden yellow wheat reaching up from the soil below. The outline of the forest lay behind them, the many trees reaching up towards the endless blue sky, taking up space with their spiky branches full of healthy leaves. 

The other half of their time, Jamie and Claire spent talking about everything and nothing. From their favourite colours; blue for Claire, green for Jamie. Favourite food, drinks, films, childhood memories…

Two hours and a bit later, Jamie and Claire walked back into the stables – windswept and a bit saddle sore, but smiling constantly. 

Like before, Jamie unbuckled his helmet and swung down from the saddle, like a pro - Claire… not so much. Jamie unclipped Domino’s saddle, pulled it off of her and settled her back into her stable with a fresh bag of hay to munch on. He then turned to hold on to Tyson’s bridle, so that he would stay stock still while Claire dismounted. Dropping the reins, Claire attempted to swing her leg around to one side. Unused to being in the saddle for an extended period of time, Claire’s body had locked up; making her feel stiff and jelly legged at the same time. 

“Got dead legs?” Jamie asked, still holding on to Tyson’s bridal collar.

Claire nodded, as she tried one last time in vain, to get off the bloody horse. 

“Here, I’ll lift ye, okay?” Letting go of the horse, Jamie placed a hand on either side of Claire’s waist and lifted her off the leather saddle and onto the ground below. Her body protested standing up, and she would have fallen flat on her face if Jamie hadn’t kept his hands on her waist. 

Jamie laughed and shook his head, “Ye alright?”

“Yes, I think… honestly, I’m not sure. My whole body hurts.” 

“It’ll just be because ye not used to it,” Jamie said, as he reached under Claire’s chin and unbuckled her riding hat.  
“Stay there while I sort out Tyson, and then we’ll go get food.” Jamie began the process of unsaddling Tyson the way he had Domino. Once he’d done that, he grabbed Claire’s hand – one, because he didn’t want her to fall over, and two, because he wanted to – and led her out of the stables and back to the car. 

Using his key fob, Jamie unlocked his car and walked around to his boot. “I knew we’d be hungry, so I packed us a little something to eat,” He said, with his head in the car boot, as he pulled out a wicker picnic basket. “Do ye wanna eat it in the car? Or up on the hill?”

“Up on the hill sounds lovely,” Claire replied.

Jamie plonked himself down on the grass, waiting for Claire to sit down before he unpacked the picnic. Claire lowered herself to her ground, legs still wobbly, and sat close enough to him that there wasn’t as inch of space left.

He unpacked the items from inside the wicker basket one at a time; sandwiches, labelled so that they would know which was which. Chunks of cheese wrapped up in tinfoil to keep it fresh. Two packets of Walkers crisps; one Ready Salted and the other Salt and Vinegar. A Tupperware box containing a handful of fresh raspberries and strawberries, and lastly, two bottles of water. 

“Oh Jamie, this is so well though out, thank you,” Claire said, as she watched him unpack and place everything out in front of them. 

He looked up and smiled toothily at her. “Ye’re very welcome, now which sandwich would ye like? I’ve got ham or I’ve got chicken?”

“Ham, please,” Claire said, and took the offered sandwich that Jamie held out for her. 

“Crisps?” Jamie held up each bag, and Claire took the offered Ready Salted. 

The next couple of minutes were filled with the sound of crisps packets being opened noisily, and food being devoured in a short space of time. Just as Claire had picked up the Tupperware box full of fruit, the heavens opened. In typical Scottish fashion, not only was it raining in summer and unexpectedly, but it wasn’t just a couple of drizzly raindrops. Oh no, these were huge raindrops, full of freezing cold water and set upon absolutely soaking anybody who wasn’t under shelter. 

“Fuck!” Claire squealed as the raindrops pelted down faster and faster.

Jamie chucked at her antics, trying to stuff everything into the picnic basket as quick as he could. Claire still had the Tupperware in her left hand, so Jamie grabbed her right, almost pulling her arm out of its socket with the force that he dragged her down the hill and out of the rain. Both Claire and Jamie were breathing heavily when they finally managed to unlock the car doors and throw themselves into the seats. 

The rain had turned Jamie’s hair into a much darker red, bordering on brown, and rivulets of water were dripping down the sides of his face. Claire stopped plucking her wet trousers from her legs, to watch Jamie use the bottom of his shirt to wipe away the water, and in the process reveal his abs. 

Jamie did a double take when he noticed her staring, “Are ye staring at me?”

“Mhm? What? No,” Claire stumbled through her words, unable to form a complete sentence.

“So not only do ye have a mouth like a sailor, but ye’ve got a dirty mind, as well. What are we gonna do with ye, Miss Beauchamp?”

Claire shoved his shoulder hard, “Shut up,” she mumbled, trying to quell the blush in her cheeks that she could feel rising. 

“Ah, she blushes,” Jamie laughed as Claire landed a punch on his upper arm. “Fine, fine, I’m shutting up,” He said, throwing his arms up to deflect her playful punches.

“Thank you,” Claire said demurely, opening up the Tupperware box and picking a strawberry to eat.

Now it was Jamie’s turn to stare in silence as she took a strawberry out and put it to her lips. She wrapped her lips around the red fruit, bit down with a snap, and then placed the little green stalk back into the container – leaving behind a glossy trail of strawberry juice on her lips. 

Unbothered about the picnic basket on his lap and the gear stick separating them, Jamie leant over and pressed his chapped lips to Claire – tasting how sweet the strawberry had been. Not expecting the kiss, Claire froze before she relaxed into it, slipping her tongue pass Jamie’s lips and tasting the remnants of Salt and Vinegar flavour on his tongue. 

Claire pulled back to look into Jamie’s wild eyes. “Now whose got a dirty mind?

“What can I say?” Jamie whispered back, “I just can’t help myself.” And then he was back kissing the shit out of her.

Claire cupped his cheek with one hand and the back of his neck with her other, toying with the damp hair at the back of his neck and making Jamie groan into her mouth. Well, two could play at that game. Moving one hand to the top of her thigh, Jamie placed his other hand just a tad bit higher than her waist – high enough that he could just brush the underside of her fabric covered breast. He pressed one last kiss to her lips and then moved down to a spot beneath of ear, nibbling ever so slightly and then soothing over the red mark with his tongue. Over and over he kissed, down to her exposed collarbone and then back up to her neck. 

“Jamie… ugh, fuck… Jamie,” Claire moaned, tipped her head back to give him more access. Jamie brushed away some of her dark hair that had fallen over her collarbone, feeling how wet and heavy her hair had become for the shower storm outside. Claire was squirming in her seat, trying in vain to get her body pressed up against his. Her pale bare shoulder taunted Jamie, and he couldn’t stop himself from biting it gently, and then making his way back up to her lips. 

Claire placed three quick pecks on Jamie’s lips and then pulled back, noticing how puff and swollen his lips were as she did so. Clearing her throat, she said, “Are you free sometime next week?”

Jamie stroked her cheek gently; so different in comparison to the scorching hot kisses he had just been laying on her. “For ye, aye. When were ye thinking?”

“Hang on, I’ll just check my work schedule,” Pulling out her phone, Claire pulled up the email of her timetable, and zoomed into the picture until she found her name. “I’m at work till 6 in the evening, but you could come around mine for 6:30 and we could watch a movie, order a takeaway, that sort of thing. Is that alright?” Claire asked, looking unsure.

Jamie smiled, “Sounds like a plan to me.” 

“Fab,” Claire looked down at her knees and then back up at Jamie’s face, feeling slightly shy even after all those kisses. “Thank you truly, Jamie. I’ve had such a wonderful day.”

“I’m glad ye enjoyed it, I was a wee bit nervous that ye wouldn’t,” Jamie admitted to her.

“No need to be nervous, I loved every second, honestly. Just hope your family haven’t given you such a hard time for spending time with me instead of them…”

“They took the piss of me for a bit, but,” He shrugged, “My choice was made, and I know it was the right choice to make. So, what film are ye thinking for Thursday? And will I need to bring popcorn?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday!
> 
> They've been on their first date! And i can't believe were already on chapter 10.
> 
> I'm becoming busier and busier with work and personal life as it gets closer to halloween and xmas, so i'm haven't even started chapter 11. I'm unsure when it'll be up, so i really hope you don't mind waiting a bit. 
> 
> Hope you all love this chapter, as much as i have fun writing it! And, i'll be getting back to comments on this chapter and chapter 9, asap.
> 
> xoxo


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW; Mental Health. Anxiety, Depression and PTSD.
> 
> Please read with caution, if those things could be a trigger for you.

The third week in the month of September in Scotland brought with it the official start of autumn. Warm sunny summer days had been replaced with buckets of unpredictable rain showers and chilling wind that bit though any bare skin you had on show. White clouds melded together in the sky, burning away any of the bright blue and leaving behind a dull, dreary, grey landscape. The days were becoming shorter, night setting in earlier and earlier. 

The rain showers lasted for most of the hours in the days, and Claire was so grateful that she got to be inside that week, while the rain poured down. 

She would like to say that she’d been able to daydream and think about her date with Jamie in peace, but the reality was that, she’d been told off a numerous amount of times by her co-workers at the hospital for staring off into space instead of getting on with her work. Claire couldn’t find it within herself to really give a toss. She worked her socks off for the important parts of her job, so who cared if she wanted to drift off into dreamland while typing on the computer or eating her lunch in the break room. 

Geillis was, of course, at the forefront of people teasing Claire – but at least Claire knew that her best friend was doing it in a good-natured fashion. The date with Jamie on Sunday had been everything she wanted and more, and Claire couldn’t stop her excitement from jumping out when she regaled Geillis with the events of Sunday. Geillis had oooh and ahhh in all the right places, with a knowing look on her face. 

Monday had been spent visiting patients on the ward at work for most of the day and then attending her first hot yoga class with Geillis. Claire had done yoga on and off for a couple of years. She’d tried to attend classes down in Oxfordshire, but she didn’t really have any friends that wanted to come with her and Frank would tease her if she suggested going alone, so she stuck with at home practices – using her laptop to find instructional videos online. 

Because she’d been practicing by herself for a while, Claire thought she knew what to expect. She thought she’d have plenty of time to plan her date on Thursday while sitting cross-legged and breathing peacefully. 

She could not have been more wrong.

On the drive there, Geillis had warned her that the instructor would be hard core, in fact it was probably more Pilates style than yoga. Claire had brushed her off, swearing down that she knew what it would be like and she’d be fine with it. 

Well, Claire soon found out that there wasn’t a second to think about anything but surviving.

Yes, for a small part of the class, Claire got to sit on her arse and breathe but the only think she could concentrate on was how bloody hot it was in the room. Too bloody hot, Christ, the sweat was already dripping down her back, and she hadn’t even moved into any positions. Throughout the class Claire’s body was moved back and forth into crazy looking stretches and she had to put all her effort into moving her feet correctly, following the instructor and breathing at the same time, that there wasn’t anytime to think about Jamie’s gorgeous face.

“So, how did you find it?” Geillis asked knowingly, as the two women walked out of the gym and across the car park. 

Claire shot her a dirty look. “Shut up will you, I think my body’s broken, and it’s all your fault.”

Geillis burst out laughing at the sight of her best friend’s pouting face and threw her arm over Claire’s shoulder, “Oh, how I love ye.”

Tuesday and Wednesday had both been spent at the hospital working, working, working and now, it was Thursday morning and Claire felt a wee bit sick with nerves. 

One, because she’d waited all this time to see Jamie again and now that her brain and body knew they would be seeing him tonight, they wouldn’t stop humming with energy. And two, because time had run away with her, and she hadn’t planned a single thing about the evening. 

“Stop worrying so much will ye,” Geillis reprimanded her, when she noticed Claire slumped over one of the break room tables, just staring into space and biting her bottom lip anxiously. 

“What happens if Sunday was all a big fluke? What happens if he’s changed his mind?” Claire asked, as Geillis took the plastic chair opposite her. 

“Have ye spoken to him this week?”

“Kind of. I messaged him again to say thank you for the horse riding, and I sent him a funny message… well at least I think it was funny, about how I thought I was dying at hot yoga and wasn’t sure I’d make it till Sunday. And then he replied to say…” 

Geillis interrupted, “Ye’re rambling Claire.”

“Well then no, I haven’t spoken to him since,” Claire said, crossing her arms. “I’ve been so busy with work and then exhausted afterwards. I did tell him that, and he seemed okay with it. But… god, I don’t know. Am I going mad?” Claire looked up to stare Geillis dead in the eyes, “Seriously, tell me, am I going insane?”

Geillis pressed her lips together, “Honestly? Aye, right now I think ye might be.” 

“I’m being serious,” Claire said, giving Geillis a dirty look. “It’s impossible. He’s only a man, and yet he manages to turn my brain to mush.”

“A very fit man, though…”

“Geillis,” Claire warned. 

“Ye need to calm down. Relax. I know ye’ve been out the dating game for a bit, but ye…”

Claire felt a presence behind her and turned around to see who it was before Geillis could even finish her sentence. 

“Dr Beauchamp. Dr Duncan. As it says in the title, the break room is a place to have a short break, not to sit, ignoring your work and gossiping like teenagers.” 

Ugh. There was always one, no matter where you worked; there was always that one suck up who you just couldn’t stand. Mrs Holden was that person for Claire, Geillis and any of the other surgeons. She was an older lady, and she’d been a receptionist in the hospital for the past 35 years, something she would tell anybody that would listen. She thrived on catching staff members and patients alike, not following rules or slacking. Any chance she could get to one up somebody and report them, she did. Gladly. 

Sliding out of their seats, neither Claire nor Geillis said anything to Mrs Holden, as they collected their rubbish and chucked it in to the bin beside the door. Geillis gave Mrs Holden one last dirty look, before swinging her hair over her shoulder and pushing open the double doors. 

“I’ll see you later,” Claire said, as she turned to head into the left wing and Geillis turned to head into the right wing. 

Geillis held up her hand in farewell and then disappeared around the corner, leaving Claire to anxiously count the hours before she saw Jamie again, alone.

XxX

Jamie knew that Claire finished work at 6pm. He’d sent a text message to her this morning, double checking that they were still up for tonight and Claire had confirmed. Other than the one this morning, and a handful of other short text conversations, Jamie hadn’t really heard much from Claire. Not that he was really surprised; she’d told him outright that this week at work had been long and stressful. 

After their first date on Sunday, Jamie couldn’t keep his excitement at bay. Thursday just couldn’t seem to come quick enough, and so that’s how Jamie found himself at 5:45pm parking outside, in the designated hospital car park, and wandering through the automatic glass doors. 

Once inside, Jamie walked straight past the fracture clinic and up to the first reception desk he could see. He joined the queue of people waiting to be dealt with, noticing that even from here that specific smell of hospital could be smelt strongly. 

“Hi, can I help ye?” A young woman asked, smiling up at him over the desk.

“Aye,” Jamie said, stepping closer towards the desk, “Ye couldn’t tell me how to get to the surgery department, could ye?”

“Aye, course I can,” She pointed left to the escalator, “If ye just hop on the escalator and then up again, so ye’re of the second floor. Then take a right and it’ll be straight up ahead.”

“Thank ye.”

“Not a problem,” she said to Jamie, and then turned her attention to the next person waiting in line, “Hi, can I help ye?”

Following the receptionist’s directions, Jamie made his way to the second floor and then towards the massive signpost that said SURGERY DEPARTMENT. Although this reception desk was empty of waiting patients, a group of three surgeons stood off to one side, chatting. Smacking her gum, the older woman behind the desk, took one look at him approaching her and then looked back down to type something on to the computer in front of her. It wasn’t until Jamie cleared his throat politely that she looked up at him again. 

“How can I help?” She muttered. 

“I’m looking for Dr Beauchamp, is…”

A tall, dark haired man that had previously been standing chatting in the group, piped up, “Claire ye mean?”

Jamie moved his eyes from the woman to the man, “Aye. Is she still here, or have I missed her?”

The man in question waited a second before answering Jamie’s question, choosing instead to look Jamie up and down. Jamie was conscious of his casual jeans, black t shirt and trainers, compared to the man’s light blue scrubs. “She’s still here… Who are you?”

“I’m…”

“Jamie?” A different voice called. Jamie looked over his shoulder to find the source of the voice, seeing a tall blonde woman weaving her way through the waiting room chairs. Her height mixed with her bright blonde hair made her easily recognizable, and as she got closer and closer, Jamie could have sworn that he’d seen her somewhere. His brain made the connection just as she stood at his side. 

“Geillis?” He asked, unsure and really hoping that he wasn’t wrong. 

“Aye,” she smiled brightly at him, showing her lovely white teeth. “Are ye after Claire?”

“Mhm, do ye know where she is?”

“She’s just on the ward, wait here, I’ll go get her for you,” And before he could say thank you, or even blink, Geillis was off like a light. 

XxX

Geillis didn’t quite believe her ears when she had heard a broad Scottish accent ask for Claire. So much so, that she had signed an outpatient’s form with a flourish, and then ran towards the reception desk. 

Okay, so neither his Instagram photos nor Claire’s description of him prepared Geillis for seeing Jamie Fraser in the flesh. He was a lot taller than she’d imagined in her head, with a shock of thick red hair on the top of his head. It wasn’t until she got closer to him, that she also noticed the group of surgeons standing off to one side, besides the desk that old Mrs Holden occupied. As if this day could get any better, Tom Christie was one of the surgeons in the group, and by the sounds of it he was asking who on earth Jamie thought he was. Geillis was giddy at the thought of Tom’s face when he saw Jamie and Claire together. 

She had been pleasantly surprised when Jamie recognized who she was, and Tom’s face was becoming redder and redder as she offered to find Claire for Jamie. God, just he wait, he was going to explode. 

Running through the corridor, Geillis reached the doors of the sterile public ward and swung them open with force. Claire was standing at the end of the corridor, finishing up writing on the end of a patient’s bed. Geillis walked over to stand beside her, vibrating with energy, but trying her hardest to be patient and wait for Claire to finish. 

“You alright?” Claire asked, sensing something was afoot, and looking up from the paperwork. 

“Jamie’s at reception,” Geillis whispered. 

The pen that Claire had been using to write with clattered to the linoleum floor. “Is he hurt?”

“He’s fine. I’m guessing he’s here to pick ye up,”

“Shut up. Are you messing with me?”

“No! He’s sitting in reception as we speak, with Tom Christie giving him the evil eye, so ye need to get ye arse out there,”

Claire nodded, shock written clearly all over her face. Walking out of the ward, Claire turned right towards the lockers where she kept her handbag. Shrugging her coat on, she walked even quicker towards where Jamie waited for her, Geillis keeping pace with her every step of the way. Turning the corner, she entered the waiting area, and her vision zeroed in on Jamie straight away. He sat on one of the waiting chairs, his long legs spread out in front of him in such a masculine way that made Claire feel all warm and tingly inside. 

“Hi,” she said, standing in front of his legs and enjoying the way his eyes travelled up her scrub clad body when he noticed her standing there. 

“Hi, yeself,” Jamie unfolded his body from the waiting room chair until he stood at his full height. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I thought I’d come pick ye up. Ye sounded stressed on ye texts and I just wanted to do something nice for ye, is that alright? Plus, this way ye don’t have to catch the bus, and we can spend more time together,”

“Of course it’s alright,” Claire said, wrapping her arms around his waist in a hello hug. 

Jamie wrapped his free arms around her shoulders, pulling her as close as she could possibly be, and gently pulling her hair from underneath her coat, “Mm, this is nice,” He hummed. “We should do this more often.”

“We should,” Claire agreed, and then tilted her face up, asking for a kiss. Jamie obliged her, gliding his lips over hers teasingly. If they hadn’t been in such a public place, Claire believed she would have been to coerce Jamie into deepening the kiss, but instead the voice of Dr Christie spoke up. 

“I didn’t know ye were seeing anyone, Claire?” 

Reluctantly, Claire broke her lip lock with Jamie. The other two surgeons that Tom had been speaking to, and Mrs Holden had all made themselves sparse, leaving just Claire, Jamie, Geillis and Tom in the waiting area. 

“Oh, um…” Claire stuttered, unsure what to say to that question and feeling a blush start to rise on her cheeks at the thought of Tom watching her intimacy with Jamie.

Like a knight in shining armor, Jamie jumped in, “It’s fairly new.” 

Tom completely ignored Jamie’s in put, acting like Jamie hadn’t said anything at all. 

“Ye’ve never mentioned anything at work…”

“I’ve told a few people,” Claire said, feeling Jamie’s gaze on her as the words spilled out of her mouth, “But like Jamie said, we’re fairly new still.”

“Must be. Ye didn’t mention anything about him when we were at Geillis’ birthday party, and the way ye were dancing with me definitely didn’t seem like ye had a boyfriend waiting for ye,” Tom’s face was screwed up into an ugly vindictive expression, as he spoke. An expression as ugly as the words coming out of his mouth and reminded Claire of another man who also used to speak to her with the same expression painted onto his face. 

It wasn’t something that Claire had ever told anybody, but sometimes Claire found her body and brain reacting in a way she didn’t want it to. Thoughts would creep in; she wasn’t good enough; she wasn’t worthy; she wasn’t grateful. She deserved for terrible things to happen to her; her parent’s death, Frank leaving her. She knew in her heart of hearts that there wasn’t anything she could have done about the car crash, but perhaps if she’d been not been distracting her father with her newfound singing ability… And maybe if she’d tried harder with Frank. Tried harder to become friends with his friends, tried harder to be sexy and keep their spark alive… then perhaps he wouldn’t have left her. 

Thoughts like these would run rampant through her mind, always cropping up at the most unhelpful times. It had crossed her mind once or twice to mention it to somebody, but… she didn’t want to look weak. She had no real friends to turn to…Uncle Lamb, bless him, had given up his bachelor hood to look after her, working his way blind through all the struggles of bringing up a teenage girl. He’d tried to hardest to give her the best, most fulfilling life than he knew how, and Claire was deathly afraid that he would think she was ungrateful. Although he would never ever admit it, Uncle Lamb took things to heart, and he would blame himself for any of Claire’s issues. 

Confiding in Frank, even when they had been good together, had just been entirely out of the question. He didn’t believe in anything of the sort. Life was to be dealt with quietly, and without the help of professionals. 

To this day, Claire could still remember the argument that followed after one of her university classes. As part of her doctoral, Claire had to learn about mental health. She’d sat in the lecture class, in shock, as she learnt about PTSD in particular. She couldn’t focus on the question prompt; instead all she could focus on was the fact that she related massively to the symptoms that her professor had been spouting off. In bed, later on that night, she’d broached the subject to Frank, about how whether she might have developed PTSD from her parent’s car crash. Before the sentence had even fully left Claire’s mouth, Frank had turned to look at her with a face full of contempt and said, “Don’t be so stupid, Claire. It doesn’t even exist, it’s just made up as a money marketing scheme.”

After that, Claire never mentioned it or anything of the sort, ever again. 

She was too scared to think about it often, too scared to give it anymore control of her life, but that got very tough when the symptoms started to become physical. The panic attacks that she experienced would be hidden from Frank at all costs, usually meaning that she locked herself in the bathroom, while praying that they would end quickly. But sometimes, the panic attacks didn’t arrive. Claire would develop the same symptoms as if she was having the start of one; dry mouth, hands and feet tingling with pins and needles, breathing becoming short and erratic, body tightening up… but nothing else would happen. The panic would just sit on her chest in a tightly wound up ball. 

Which was what was currently happening. Claire’s brain couldn’t tell who’d said the words, or what they’d even said, but it could tell her that she needed to panic for one reason or another. Panic in case Jamie thought of bad of her, in case he thought she was going out with other men and flirting.

With his body being pressed against hers, Jamie must have felt her whole body seize up, and instead of saying anything, he held onto her hand and traced his large thumb over her knuckles. 

Claire saw Geillis open her mouth to speak, but beat her to it, “It wasn’t like that, and you know it,” She managed to get out, focusing all of her attention onto the sensation of Jamie’s warm hand. 

Tom shrugged, like now he couldn’t be bothered to deign her with an answer. He looked Jamie up and down one last time, raised an eyebrow at the sight of their joined hands and then walked away down the corridor. 

“What a dickhead,” Geillis muttered, staring at the place Tom had stood. 

Jamie broke out laughing, jolting Claire out of the hamster wheel of thoughts that were currently taking place inside her head. 

“Ye alright, Claire?” Geillis had turned to look at her.

“Mhm,” Claire hummed, nodding her head up and down a little too forcibly. 

“Don’t listen to him, hen. We all know it wasn’t like anything he was trying to paint it out to be. Don’t let him spoil ye night, have a good one, and I’ll text ye later, okay?” Geillis said, wrapping Claire up in a comforting hug. “It was nice to finally meet ye, Jamie.”

“Ye too,” Jamie said, waving goodbye to Geillis as she headed back towards the public ward. Then he looked down at Claire, “Are ye sure ye’re alright? I felt ye go all tense.”

Claire painted a halfhearted smile onto her face. “I’m fine. Kind of… Come on, I’m starving. I’ll tell you about Tom as were driving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> A little change in pace and scenery for this story, but i wanted to try my hand at writing a smidge of angst. So, yes, expected some rocky-ish chapters but the fluff that will follow will be worth it :).
> 
> Honestly, I'm a wee bit nervous to post this chapter, because it's something different and not what people expected... so please give me some feedback! xo
> 
> Also, if any of you have a tumblr handle, please feel free to drop it into the comment box or follow me because i want to follow some of you lovelies so that we can keep in touch.
> 
> Enjoy xoxo


	12. Chapter Twelve

“It wasn’t anything like what he was insinuating,” Claire blurted, as they joined the moving escalator together.

“Claire, lass, it’s alright. We were just friends when ye went to Geillis’ party. Ye’re your own person, ye can do what ye like. Anyway, he was obviously just trying to stir it up and cause an argument between us,” Jamie said, stepping off the escalator on to the ground floor, and reaching for Claire’s hand again.

My God, this man. Could he get anymore perfect?

Claire realised she hadn’t replied to him when Jamie prompted her, “Claire?”

“Yeah? Oh, yeah, yeah I know he was, but…”

Unlocking his car, Jamie peered at Claire over the top of it. “Are ye sure ye alright? Ye’ve gone all white…”

Claire opened the back seat door, placed her handbag in the back and then opened the door to sit in the passenger seat. Sitting down, she stared at the sight of her pale hands in her lap, such a contrast to the blue clothing she currently wore. She waited for Jamie to get in and start the car up before she said anything. 

“Would you mind putting the heating on?”

Jamie’s head snapped up to look at her at the sound of her voice, “Aye, of course,” he said, twisting one of the three dials that sat on the dashboard. 

Okay, deep breaths. She could do this. “Tom was wrong,” Claire started. 

Jamie nodded silently, picking up on the fact that she had more to say. 

“He was dancing with me at Geillis’ birthday party, and then he started to dance… sexually with me…”

“Claire, ye don’t have to explain things to me, ye’re not in trouble. We weren’t together, I already said…” Jamie looked over to her, with his eyebrows knitted.

“I know. But I want to. I don’t want you to think badly of me…” 

“I won’t…” He promised.

“Let me just get this out of my system, okay?”

Jamie pressed his lips together, tapping one of his hands against his jean-claded thigh and nodded for her to continue.

“So, he was dancing with me, and talking explicitly to me, and when he asked if I wanted a drink, I said yes. I was too many sheets to the wind to even think about declining his offer… I didn’t kiss him, so I’m not sure why he was acting the way he was with you?”

“I’m guessing he’s got a thing for ye, and he probably thinks ye’ve led him on or something just as stupid,” Jamie suggested. 

“I guess,” Claire said, still unsure. “I just don’t get it. He’s my co-worker, I would never want to date him and then for things to get messy for us at work if our relationship didn’t work out. I didn’t think I’d given him any other message, other than I’m clearly not interested… God, I feel like I’m repeating history.”

“Why? Has something similar happened to ye before?”

Realising that she’d said the last part of her thought process out loud, Claire glanced at Jamie wearily. She took in a deep inhale of air and then blew it all out in a long sigh. 

“I’m scared if I tell you, you’ll… god, I don’t know… You’ll run away and lose interest in me,” 

“Lose interest in ye?” Jamie scoffed, “I don’t think that’s possible, lass.”

Claire looked over at Jamie and then had to look away, because of how clearly his feelings for her were etched over his whole face. 

Here goes nothing, Claire thought as she prepared herself to spill one of her biggest secrets. “Okay, so I actually once made the mistake of dating somebody I worked with. Well, I didn’t work with him, per se… he was a professor at my university…”

“A teacher?” Jamie asked, sounding slightly shocked but trying to cover it for Claire’s sake, “Your teacher?”

“Yes, he did a seminar on the history class that I was taking at the time.”

“Why were ye taking a history class? Ye’re a doctor, not a historian… surely ye didn’t need to know about the Tudor times before ye started cutting into people,”

With an eyebrow raised, Claire said, “I do not cut into people for a living. And no, I didn’t need to know that sort of history before I began my training, but I needed extra credits for my university course and I’d always had an interest in history, so it just made sense.”

“So, ye dated ye teacher…” Jamie laughed out loud. “God, I can’t say that with a straight face. Sounds like something out of a porn site.”

Claire crossed her arms over her chest, “You’re such a knob.” 

Jamie cackled again. “I can’t help it, it does. How long…” Jamie pressed his lips together to try to contain any more laughter and then tried again. “How long did you date for?”

“A while,” Claire mumbled, eyes trained outside the stationary car window, where she could watch numerous people stream in and out of the hospital.

“How long’s a while?”

“Just about ten years or so…”

“Did ye just say ten years or so?” Disbelief dripped from Jamie’s every word. 

Claire nodded and peeled her eyesight away from the outside world to focus on Jamie and the bubble that the two of them seemed to create when they were with each other. Jamie sat staring at her, mouth gaping open partially, in what appeared to be shock. 

Throat sticking, he murmured, “Ten years…”

“Well, nine and a half,”

“So, nine and a half years? Wait, wait, it’s not possible. How old are ye?”

The question, and the way that Jamie delivered it, was so ridiculous that Claire exhaled a small laugh through her nose. 

“I started dating Frank when I was 20, and I’ll be the big 3 0 next month…”

“Fuck right off, Claire,” Jamie exclaimed. “There’s no way on God’s green earth that ye’re gonna be 30. It’s just not possible,”

“I am,” Claire laughed out loud this time, the sound reverberating off the car’s roof. I’ll be 30 on the 20th of October. Why, how old did you think I was?” 

Jamie shrugged, “My age, maybe even younger… I dunno, 23 or 24…”

Claire smiled broadly, despite the adrenaline and thoughts of Frank in her head. “You’re officially my new favourite person, if you thought I looked that young. So, if you though I was younger than your age, what age does that make you?” 

“I turned 25 in May just gone,”

“25? 2 and 5? You’ve just turned 25? My God, Jamie, I’m a cougar,”

“A cougar? Shut the fuck up… old lady,” Jamie told her, scrunching up his face with laughter. 

Claire shoved the bony elbow into his ribs, the best she could do with the gear stick separating them. Jamie just laughed harder, now clutching his side where Claire had elbowed him and wheezing. 

“I can’t get over it,” Jamie said eventually, when he had pulled himself together enough to put on a straight face. “Ye’ve gotta be lying, messing with me. There’s no way you’re turning 30.”

“I am! I promise you!”

“Hm,” 

Both Jamie and Claire sat in companionable silence, until Jamie broke it with another question, this one delivered with a much quieter tone. 

“Why did ye break up with him?”

Claire looked into Jamie’s face for a handful of heart beats, glanced down at her shoe clad feet in the foot well and then back up at Jamie. 

“He broke up with me, actually. We moved up here for Frank’s work, and I got the job at the hospital. I became friends with Geillie, and we started going out shopping and drinking with each other, as well as seeing each other at work. One day after I’d come home from work… Frank told me he didn’t know who I was anymore, and whoever the person I was becoming, well, he didn’t like it. He didn’t even want to try to fix things between us anymore, he just told me to get out, so I did. I rang Geillis, and she picked me up in more ways than one. I lived in her spare room for a time until I plucked enough courage to sell my engagement ring and put it towards the deposit for the cottage.”

Claire could hear Jamie’s breathing as she finished answering his question, and waited for him to say something, anything. His cornflower blue eyes bounced across her face, searching for some hidden emotion that her monotone voice hadn’t revealed. 

“Ye were engaged to him? This Frank?”

“Yeah. Stupid of me, I know. I shouldn’t have said yes to him in the first place, but love, or what you think is love, makes you do stupid things,”

Jamie moved his hand to cover Claire’s, “Don’t. Don’t put ye’re self down like that, Claire. Ye’re love should have been enough for him,” 

Jamie looked down as he felt Claire thread her fingers through his, so they were holding hands once more. With his other free hand, he tucked a loose strand of soft hair behind Claire’s ear. 

“Why didn’t ye move back to England? Back to living close to ye’re uncle?”

“I already had my work here, and I’d fallen in love with it. With the work, with the whole place of Scotland as a whole. I’d made such a good best friend in Geillie, and everyone was just so lovely, and, I don’t know. Well, I do know, I wanted to be independent. Uncle Lamb still works abroad for part of the year, so it’s not like I’d be missing out on seeing him every day. I wanted part of my life to be just mine; whether that was my job, or where I lived… I just wanted to be able to choose that for myself, and not because of somebody else.”

“Is it wrong, if I say I’m glad?” Jamie asked, quietly. “I’m not glad that he broke ye’re heart… but I’m glad ye stayed, I’m glad that it led me and ye together.”

“Didn’t anybody tell you that you’re not supposed to say stuff like that on a second date?” Claire said teasingly, trying to be just as quiet, “What happens if it Jinxes us?” 

“Pretty sure nothing can jinx the way I feel about ye, Claire.”

“Thank you, Jamie,” Claire said simply, and Jamie knew that she meant ‘thank you’ for numerous different reasons. For listening to her and not interrupting. For sitting beside her and saying such sweet things. For him just being him. 

“Thank ye for letting me in. Before we go, can I ask ye why ye froze up when we were in the hospital?”

“He reminded me of Frank. Sometimes my brain can’t tell the difference, and my body just freezes up, I’ll be fine once I start to warm up.”

Jamie nodded, “Think ye feel ready to head back home yet? We can pick up some food on the way, what ye fancying?”

“How does Chinese sound?”

Sounds good to me,” Jamie answered, fitting the keys into the ignition and turning them until the engine roared to life. “Which one do ye want to go to?”

XxX

Jamie held the two white plastic bags in either hand as Claire fumbled in her handbag for her house keys. Pulling them out of the depths with a ‘aha!’ Claire fitted them into the lock and shoved the front door open. Claire had left her cottage early in the morning, and now wasn’t returning until it was later on and so her whole cottage was surrounded in pitch black darkness, not a light left on in sight. 

Hooking her hand around the corner of the wall, Claire flicked the light switch and held the door open for Jamie. Hearing the lock click satisfyingly, Claire threw her keys into the bowl beside the door on the window sill. Slipping her handbag down off of her shoulder, Claire placed it onto the bare, clean kitchen counter, and shrugged her coat off. 

“Do you mind plating up our food, while I change out of these scrubs and into something comfier?” Claire asked Jamie, as he moved further into the warm lit kitchen in the search for said plates. 

“Of course not, get away with yeself.” 

As she stood in her bedroom, shedding her work clothes and exchanging them for some cosy loungewear, Claire could hear the banging and clattering of cupboards being opened and closed and the rustling of plastic bags. With her cold bare feet encased in a pair of sock-like slippers, Claire ran back down the stairs to find Jamie in the kitchen. He was still where she’d left him, except now he had his head inside her fridge. Two plates of steaming hot Chinese food sat waiting for them, with an extra serving of fried rice and chicken chow mien for them to pick at and share. 

“What do ye want to drink?” Jamie asked, retrieving a can of orange Irn Bru fizzy pop, and closing the fridge door behind him. 

“Just some water, please. Was the order right?”

“Aye,” Jamie said, finding an empty, clean glass that sat on the draining board and filling it up with cold water from the kitchen tap. Without even needing to communicate, Claire took the icy cold glass from him, placed the can of pop in the crook of her arm, and, as a second thought grabbed a roll of kitchen roll in case they needed to wipe their greasy hands. She picked up the plate of sharing food in her spare hand, as Jamie picked up their two other plates. 

Claire placed the two drinks off to one side, on the living room glass coffee table, so that Jamie could place all the food down. Claire kicked off her slippers as she moved a cushion on the sofa, so she could sit down, “Did you bring cutlery?”

“Shit, no,” Jamie said, reaching to steal a chip off of Claire’s plate, “I’ll go get them, ye pick something to watch.”

Fishing the telly remote control from underneath the decorative cushions, Claire powered up the telly, just as Jamie returned with a two pairs of knives and forks for both of them to eat with. 

“Picked something to watch?”

“Not yet, did you want to watch something in particular? Telly show or film?”

“I’m not too fussed,” Jamie answered, twirling a lump of noodles onto his fork and then brining it up to his mouth.

Claire flicked the telly guide up onto the screen, so that she could see what telly shows were just starting and which ones were halfway through or almost finished.

“Put The Chase on,” Jamie gestured with said fork, towards the quizzing game show that was just starting. “I wanna see if I can beat ye.”

“Fine with me,” Clare smiled smugly, “There’s no way you’re going to win against me.”

XxX

A stack of empty plates sat on the coffee table, next to Jamie’s outstretched legs. The game show had just finished (Jamie disputed that it was a tie between them, but Claire definitely won by two solid points) and Claire broke her last fortune cookie in half with a snap with one hand as she flicked endlessly through the channels. 

“Ooh! The Goonies is on!” Claire exclaimed, excited to see that one of her childhood films was just beginning to show the opening credits. “Do you want to watch it? It’s one of my favourite all time films,”

Jamie lay diagonally on the sofa, his bare feet on the coffee table and his head just resting on the sofa cushions above Claire’s shoulder. He was too full off eating all that food, to lift his head properly, so he craned his neck as best he could so he could answer Claire. 

“Aye, sure. I remember ye saying that it was ye favourite last week… didn’t ye say Ferris Bueller’s Day Off was ye favourite?”

“Mh, it changes daily,” Claire hummed, unwrapping the blanket that stayed on the arm of the sofa and mainly placing it over her own legs, and a small corner over Jamie’s thigh. “But, yeah, usually.”

“Ye gonna share that?” Jamie asked, nodding his head lethargically towards the soft, grey blanket.

Claire gave him the side eye, “If you sat closer to me, then yes, maybe.”

Jamie shuffled his body, till instead of lying diagonally he lay in a straight line with his thigh pressed up against Claire’s. He could feel her body heat through their own layers of clothes. As gently as he possibly could, Jamie lay his heavy head down onto Claire’s shoulder and peered up into her face with his baby blues. 

“This close enough for ye?”

In answer, Claire wrapped more of the blanket across Jamie. 

She tilted her chin slightly; so she could look at him the way he was looking at her, “Stop giving me those puppy dog eyes, and shut up, will you.”

XxX

Towards the end of the film, just as the kids were being saved by Sloth and swimming for their lives past the sunken ship, Claire fell asleep. Jamie felt her hand, which has been grasping his, go slack and limp. She looked so peaceful in her sleep that Jamie couldn’t bear to disturb her, so he jostled her ever so slightly until her head rested in his lap. Rearranging the blanket so it covered her bare feet, Jamie ran his fingers across her ear and down through her hair – feeling how soft and silky the dark strands were as they slipped through his fingertips. She sighed through her nose loudly, and Jamie worried that he’d awoken her by moving her and stroking her hair, but she continued to breathe deeply and evenly.

Claire showed no sign of waking up from her slumber, even when the film finished and Jamie turned the telly off. 

“Claire,” Jamie gently shook her shoulder, “Claire, lass?”

“Jamie?” Claire mumbled, voice thick with sleep. 

“Aye, ye fell asleep, think it’s best if ye get yeself up to bed.”

Claire hummed sleepily, low in the back of her throat, and then her breathing regulated again into a pattern. With one large hand, Jamie held Claire’s head aloft from his lap, so he could scootch out from underneath her without cricking her neck. Both of his knees cracked as he stood up from the sofa and placed Claire’s head back down onto the warm sofa cushion as gently as he could.

“Claire?” Jamie shook her shoulder again, “Come on, up ye get.”

Instead of answering him, or opening her eyes, Claire just lifted both of her arms up halfheartedly. It reminded Jamie of both Wee Jamie and Maggie. 

Jamie shook his head no, even though Claire couldn’t see him through her closed eyelids. “I’m not carrying ye,”

Claire stuck her bottom lip out in a pout.   
With much persuasion, or second thought, Jamie was sighing, “Fine. Put ye arms around my neck, will ye.” Claire complied with wrapped her arms around his neck, as he placed one arm underneath her knees and another behind her back. With a one, two, three, Jamie lifted Claire away from the sofa. 

Compared to the heavy lifting that Jamie had been doing since he was a teenager, Claire didn’t weigh much - but the stairs did prove slightly tricky, when he couldn’t see the next step in front of himself and had to rely on feeling the next step with his foot. 

Claire’s bedroom was pretty much in exactly the same shape as it had been the last time he’d been in it, except that now no clothes sat in a pile on her dressing room chair. 

In a feat that he didn’t know how he managed, Jamie pulled back the taut white bed sheets with one hand, still keeping Claire tucked into his body. Once he’d moved back the covers enough, Jamie bent at the waist to place Claire into her bed. Claire pulled the duvet and extra blanket over herself and then turned over so she could look up at Jamie. 

She opened her eyes, blearily, “Will you stay awhile?”

Who was Jamie to say no, especially not when she’d asked so nicely and she looked so cute and sleepy. Especially not since he’d already missed the warmth of her body next to his. 

“Aye, I’ll stay for a bit,” Jamie whispered. 

Walking around the other side of the bed, he climbed up onto the bed. In a position very similar to the one on the sofa, Claire propped her head up on Jamie’s chest, while he propped himself up against the headboard.

With silence, except for the natural sound of breathing, filling the dark room, Jamie was able to think; something was definitely afoot here. 

From the moment he’d set his eyes on Claire, he knew that he wanted to talk to her and get to know her. Some might call him crazy, but Ellen had always raised her children to believe in true love, in soul mates – whether romantic, or not, she had told her children that there would be people along their journey of life, that would call to their hearts in a special way. And Jamie had felt something special from the first moment that he spoke to Claire. He wasn’t sure that Claire had felt it though, and there had been no way of asking her, for she kept her cards tightly against her chest. But now, Jamie thought he might have an inkling about her true feelings. 

She didn’t have to tell him about Tom Christie, Jamie could tell that he was lying from the get go and didn’t expect for Claire to explain things. 

Her ex boyfriend – no fiancée – sounded like a right piece of work. Jamie wouldn’t be surprised if the reason Claire felt like she had to explain everything to him was because of how that Frank had treated her in the past. 

There was a tiny part of Jamie that was apprehensive about the whole situation.

His time with Claire, so far, had been filled with chatter and laughter. She was more headstrong and opinionated than Annalise had ever been, but Jamie didn’t mind it – he was used to it, after growing up with his Mam and Jenny. He could imagine Claire fitting right in with his family; she was just the right amount of crazy to be able to keep up with the Frasers. It might be strange to think, after just two dates, but Jamie could see a potential future with Claire. 

But, she had just come out of a nine year relationship, with an engagement to boot. Claire had been with the same man since she was twenty years old, she’d had no real time to decide what qualities she actually wanted in a partner. Jamie couldn’t be sure that he fit the bill. What happens if she wanted to be single some more? Try out that part of life that she’d missed out on for so many years? There was no way in hell that he was up for getting strung along while Claire flitted away and made up her mind about what she wanted to do. 

And then, what happens if they did get together and he didn’t compare at all to this Frank? Did Claire want him to be like Frank?

Claire didn’t seem like the kind of person to string somebody else along, or compare others, but you could never be too careful, so Jamie made a mental note to discuss the topic with Claire the next time he saw her. 

“When are ye next free, Claire?” Jamie asked. “Because I can’t enough of ye,” he added silently to himself in his head. 

“Not next week,” Claire whispered back, sleep still etched clearly in her voice. 

“Are ye sure? It doesn’t matter what time ye finish work, ye know, we can just do something like this again…”

“I’m going down to Oxfordshire. Uncle Lamb can’t make it for my actual birthday, so I’m going down a week before it, so I can celebrate with him,”

“Ah, right,” Jamie said, “How long will ye be gone?”

“The full week. I leave on Monday and I’ll be back late Friday night before my birthday on the Saturday,”

“How ye getting there?”

“I’ve got a train booked for 8 am, why?” 

The light from the hallway was the only light on upstairs, and it had fallen across Claire’s face, so that Jamie could just make out her eyes meeting his as she asked him the question. 

Jamie went back to whispering; feeling vulnerable and exposed to her as he asked, “Is it too forward to ask ye if I can take ye to the train station? That way I get to see ye before ye leave for a bit,” 

Claire lifted her head off of his chest and nudged his nose with her own. She planted a feather light kiss on his lips, and then said, “No, Jamie, that would be lovely, thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello you lovely lot!
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed chapter 12... Lemme know in the comments down below :)
> 
> I also just wanted to say a quick thank you. This story hit over 10,000 hits early this week and to tell you i was gobsmacked would be an understatement. i never in a million years expected it. So, thank you for making that happen. Whether you've followed along chapter by chapter from the beginning, or you binged chapters in one go, or you read it and didn't think it was for you but still gave my story and writing a chance... thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You'll never know how much this all means to me <3


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW; Mentions of parental death. Description of graveyards.

“Have you got ye train ticket?” Jamie asked Claire, early Monday morning, as they drove away from the row of cottages and towards the city’s train station.

“Yeah, it’s in my purse, don’t worry,” Claire answered, pulling on a pair of sunglasses over her eyes to block out the bright autumn sunshine.

Neither Jamie nor Claire spoke much, other than to point something out along the way, as Jamie drove. Both of them just sinking in the last moments of being in each other’s company and enjoying the way the golden sunlight hit the green grass and the ever colour changing trees. Before they knew it, Jamie was pulling into an empty car park space outside of the train station’s glass doors, and turning off the car’s engine. He opened his door first, and had already opened the boot and taken out Claire’s pink suitcase, before Claire had even gotten her foot out of the car and onto the pavement. 

In silence, Jamie grasped Claire’s hand and wheeled her suitcase for her, through the glass doors and underneath the timetable showcasing the different arrivals and departures of the trains. Without a ticket Jamie could go no further, so he turned to Claire and sighed.

“I’ll see ye soon, okay?” He said, tucking a strand of hair that had become loose from her messy bun. 

Claire nodded, and took the handle of the suitcase from him, “It’s only a week, but it feels like longer… I’ll text you when I get there.”

“Aye, do, so I know ye’re there safely. Let me know what time ye train comes in on Friday night, and I’ll come pick ye up.”

“I think it’s around 9, but I’ll double check and let you know,” Letting go of the handle for just a second, Claire reached up and wrapped her arms around Jamie’s neck, so he was forced to wrap his arms her waist. 

He dragged her body as close as physically possible to his, and when he still wasn’t happy with that, he moved his arms underneath her open coat so he could feel the curves of her body. 

“Thank you,” Claire whispered in his ear, and then placed a kiss just underneath his jawline, where a shadow of stubble was beginning to grow. 

He snaked his left arm out of her coat and upwards, so he could cup the back of her neck with his hand. He could feel the soft baby hairs there tickling the palm of his hand. In one smooth move, he tilted her head up and pressed his lips onto hers. Claire must have been expecting his movements, for she opened her mouth to him almost straight away, tangling her tongue with his. 

God knows how long they stood there, snogging like teenagers in public. But Jamie eventually pulled away when the orange flashing of the train timetable caught his eye. 

“Ye don’t want to be late and miss ye train,” He said. 

Claire nodded, “I’ll see you later, Jamie.” 

“Friday,” Jamie promised. 

Claire fished out her train ticket from her purse and turned to the turn styles. She threw one last wave over her shoulder to Jamie and then swiped her ticket until the machine turned green and she could walk through it. Up the ramp she walked, wheeling the suitcase behind her. Once she was at the top of the ramp, she leant over the small railing to look back at Jamie again. He stood in the same place she has left him, with his hands in his front jean pockets and his eyes glued to her movements. Even from up here, she could see his blinding smile directed at her and her jaw moved automatically to send one right back to him. 

The smile and a little giggle inside herself stayed with her the whole entire way, as she searched for platform six and then waited patiently behind the designated yellow safety line. The train pulled up only eight minutes behind its original time, and as the doors opened, Claire was one of many people who were cramming themselves into the oblong shaped carriages. 

Stowing her suitcase in the metal compartment next to the doors, Claire craned her neck to find an empty seat. Luck was on her side, for she found a single seat. Even better, it wasn’t facing rearview, so fingers crossed, she wouldn’t experience any travel sickness. It appeared that Claire must have snagged one of the last seats, because all the other morning commuters found themselves having to stand. 

As the train began its slow and steady ascend away from the station, Claire occupied herself with taking down her build in table and plugging her phone charger into the plug socket down by her feet. Once that was done and sorted, Claire racked her brain to decide how she was going to pass six and a half hours of her own precious time. She’d brought the book that she was currently reading along with her, a small book of puzzles and her phone to keep her mind busy, but none of them sounded appealing right now. Instead, she found herself people watching. 

The man sitting across from her wore a stiff, dark blue suit. He had his laptop propped up on the pull down table, and was typing furiously, his fingers flying over the keys so fast they seem to be blurring together. The only time he would stop would be to take a sip out of the travel mug that sat beside his laptop. After he swallowed the liquid and replaced the mug, his keyboard would be clacking again. 

The woman standing next to Claire’s seat wore the same sort of business attire - a white, starched frilly blouse and a tight, black pencil skirt. She held a brown, leather briefcase in her hand; something that Claire betted was probably monogrammed, in gold print, with the woman’s initials. She swayed ever so slightly as she stood, more so than just because of the trains movements and the heavy amounts of concealer she had applied couldn’t cover up the dark circles under her eyes. Claire deducted that she most likely had a late night, one too many glasses of champagne, perhaps. 

Claire could easily spend more of her time people watching, but she didn’t want to seem like she was giving people dirty looks. So, she turned her attention to the passing scenery. Tuning out the sound of the overhead tannoy, which was loudly welcoming them onto the train, Claire watched the lush green fields rush past. Soon, as they got further down the country, the scenes outside of the train windows would be overtaken by houses and high-rise buildings. So Claire used this time to appreciate the greenness of it all. 

Almost all of the trees outside were becoming sparser and sparser, ready for the upcoming winter months. The leaves were changing colours; from green to reds, browns, and burnt oranges, and then dropping off. There were so many of floating towards the earth that they had began to cover the farmer’s fields, so that Claire could see part green and part a sea of distinct autumn colours. 

Watching nature run its course outside had Claire thinking about the horse riding date that Jamie had taken her on. From there, her focus molded itself into just Jamie himself. 

Sitting in his car last week had been beyond nerve wracking. Jamie had reassured her over and over that she didn’t need to explain, but God… Tom Christie had just gotten under her skin and she needed to let it all out to someone. It was only natural to talk about any past relationships you might have had, when you entered a new one. Just as it was natural to want to talk about any other moment of your past, and share parts of yourself. 

They hadn’t talked about it yet, but Claire could totally, 100%, see herself getting into a relationship with Jamie. It wasn’t just that he was fit, but by god he was, it was the way he made her feel. Like she was on top of the world, like she could try her hand at anything and he would still be there to support her. Not like Frank. All he did was tear her down. 

At the time, when they’d been together, Claire simply couldn’t see it. But now that they had broken up, and Claire had had time to reflect and talk it out with Geillis, Claire realised that the Frank she had left wasn’t the same man she’d fallen in love with when she was 20. She knew it was a combination of things. She wasn’t the same woman she was when she was 20, her tastes, preferences, likes and dislikes were all different. And so had Frank’s. They’d both grown up in different ways, and it had forced them apart instead of pulling them closer together. 

That niggling voice inside of Claire’s head popped up again. Was it moving too fast with Jamie? What happens if he didn’t want to be her boyfriend, and he certainly didn’t want her to be his girlfriend? What would other people think if they got together? Would they think she had moved on too quickly after breaking up with Frank?

These bloody thoughts! Her brain really was out to get her, recently. 

In a bid to disrupt the never ending loop in her mind, Claire took an involuntary deep breath, and a sip of icy cold water out of her stainless steel water bottle. 

The woman’s voice called over the tannoy again, this time to announce that they were pulling up to the first stop. There was some movement, as a number of people made their way to the luggage compartment and waited patiently for the train to come to a halt, so they could get off. While those people were leaving, another number of standing commuters took up the empty seats that were now free – this made the aisle of the train a lot less crowded and easier to walk through. 

Claire sent a quick text to Jamie, to tell him she had made it on the train safely, and they’d made it to the first stop, but that she had another gruelling five hours ahead of her. Then, she sent another text, this one to her Uncle Lamb, telling him pretty much the same thing that she had texted Jamie. 

XxX

The time on the train ticked by faster than Claire actually thought. 

She buried her head in her book for most of the way, only stopping to glance up at the changing landscape outside or to have something to drink. Around halfway through, she treated herself to a slice of lemon drizzle cake from the lunch time trolley that was being pushed around. As she speared a piece of the heavenly cake on to her fork and brought it up to her mouth, Claire thought about how her week might go when she ended up in Oxfordshire. 

Other than Uncle Lamb, there wasn’t anybody that she wanted to visit – well, her parents, of course. She would need to find a nice looking florist and get a bunch of flowers for the graveside. 

It might be nice to be able to have a look around her old favourite bookshop, and stock up on any of the latest releases. Maybe even a walk around the park where she had spent her youth. 

In a blink of an eye, the tannoy announced that they would be pulling into the Oxford train station. Claire unplugged her phone charger, and placed all of her items back inside of her tote bag, before standing up to retrieve her suitcase. The train swayed and jolted along the tracks, slowing down, down, down, until it came to a halt and the doors opened. Making sure to mind the step, Claire exited the stuffy train; the smell of fresh air mixed with fumes crawling up her nose. 

She could hear her suitcase wheels make a steady sound behind herself as she walked quickly along to where, hopefully, Uncle Lamb would be waiting to pick her up. Just like she had done only hours before, Claire swiped her ticket along the turn style, walked straight through it and then searched the crowd. This time, searching for a greying head of brunette instead of a shock of red. 

“Claire! Darling, I’m over here,” 

Claire turned her head towards the sound of her name and found Uncle Lamb waving at her with his arm in the air to catch her attention. 

“Hello, stranger,” She said, as she approached him. Uncle Lamb held out his arms for a welcome hug, and Claire stepped straight into them – very glad to feel somebody familiar. 

“How are you? How was the train journey? Was it awful?” Lamb asked, taking the suitcase out of Claire’s hand and leading her towards where he had parked his old Land Rover outside. 

“It wasn’t too bad, a bit cramped when we first set off, but I managed to snatch a seat, so it was fine,” Claire hoisted herself up into the car, as Lamb chucked her suitcase in the boot. The smell of tobacco hung in the air, and the relief of seeing Uncle Lamb had Claire relaxing into the seat.

“You never answered about yourself, so, how are you?” Lamb pressed, putting his foot on the pedal and swerving out of the car park faster than Claire would have liked.

“I’m alright. Tired off this week at work, but otherwise, fine.”

“How is work going on Scottish land? Can you believe we’ve not seen each other in the flesh since you moved…”

“I ring you all the time, and we facetime like twice a month…? Anyway, I love it there. The works hard, but well rewarding and I’ve made some really lovely friends.”

Uncle Lamb nodded his head once, satisfied with Claire’s answer that the people of Scotland were treating her well. “Heard anything from Frank?”

“No.”

Uncle Lamb said aloud, “Good,” and then under his breath, “wretched man.” 

It took round about ten minutes to drive from the Oxford train station to Claire’s childhood home in Oxfordshire, and Claire only realised they weren’t going straight home when Lamb took a left on the roundabout instead of a right. 

“I thought we could go food shopping and get some of your favourites. That way, we have options to make something tonight, or have a takeaway. What do you think?” Uncle Lamb explained before Claire could even ask. 

“Sounds good to me.” Claire pulled her handbag up on the car floor and onto her lap. She pulled out her phone and pressed her thumbprint onto the large button at the bottom, “I’ll just let Jamie know I’m here, before we go in food shopping, otherwise he’ll worry.” 

Lamb’s head whipped towards Claire. Claire wouldn’t be surprised if he had whiplash from how quick he’d moved. “Who the fuck is Jamie?”

Claire laughed at his tone. “I’m not getting into this with you while we food shop. I’ll tell you when we get home.”

Claire typed up a text to Jamie, telling him she had gotten off the train safe and sound and she was with Uncle Lamb. As she did so, Lamb turned off the engine, pocketed the car key and turned to face his niece. “Are you seeing someone?” 

Claire scoffed and could feel her cheeks growing hot. 

“Well?”

“Maybe.” Claire answered as truthfully as she could. “Now let’s go, I’m hungry and I really want to get home and wash this train stink off me.”

Thankfully, as they pushed the trolley up and down the aisles, Uncle Lamb kept silent about the mystery Jamie. They left the shop with a number of reusable bags weighing them both down and then were off again along the road towards home. Lamb unlocked the front door and then came back to help Claire with her luggage and the groceries. In harmony, the two of them unpacked all of the food and put it in the cupboard and the fridge. 

“Would you mind whipping up some sandwiches for lunch, while I take a shower and unpack?” Claire asked, one foot on the first stair upstairs. 

“Sure, darling. I’ll get the heating on, as well.”

Pushing opening the door to her old bedroom, Claire was greeted with the same white walls and furniture that she’d seen every time she’d opened her eyes in this room. The only thing that was different was the bed had been made up, and the smell of cleaning polish that hung in the air. Uncle Lamb had obviously tried his hardest to make her bedroom as welcoming as possible, and Claire couldn’t be more grateful. She hung up most of her clothes she’d brought with her, up in her wardrobe – finding that that too had been hoovered of any dust or mites. The rest of her clothes; pajamas, socks and underwear were folded neatly, and placed inside of the chest of drawers in the corner. Gathering up her bathroom toiletries in her arms, Claire checked her phone one last time before her shower, to see if Jamie had replied back to her previous text message. He had. An emoji thumbs up waited for her on the screen, and then a second message underneath that, wished her a good week and to give him another text whenever she got the chance. A third message popped up as she was reading the first two… just a simple red heart this time. 

Claire smiled to herself as she walked across the landing to the bathroom and deposited all of her toiletries onto the clean windowsill. She placed her electric toothbrush next to Uncle Lamb’s on the sink, and lined her deodorant, body wash, shampoo and conditioner up alongside his. 

Claire tucked the fresh, clean towel over the radiator, so that it would be warm and toasty by the time she finished with the shower. Stripping off her clothes, and leaving them in a pile in the bathroom to take downstairs and put into the washing machine, Claire stepped under the hot spray. Sighing, as she felt the water wash away the grime from travelling. She stayed there till her skin had a pinkish tint, and steam filled the whole bathroom. 

Clean body, clean face and clean pajamas on, Claire was ready for a good catch up with her Uncle as she walked back down the stairs. 

She found Uncle Lamb sitting in his chair in the living room, the telly on and a plate of food resting on his lap. Her plate of food and glass of water sat on the coffee table waiting for her. Making herself comfortable on the sofa and digging into her lunch, it struck Claire with how much she had missed this. It had been a long time since she’d sat in her Uncle’s company, feeling his warmth and love surround her. This house was familiar to her, like an extra soft blanket or a hot bath after a freezing cold day outside. It welcomed her in and tucked her there, keeping her safe. A place where she would always be accepted, no matter what choices she made in life. 

Uncle Lamb must have been watching over her out of the corner of his eye, for once she finished up her lunch and wiped her dirty fingers onto a napkin, he turned to her with a questioning look upon his face. 

“So, this Jamie?”

“His real name’s James. James Fraser. But we call him Jamie… I’ve been on a few dates with him.”

“Where did you meet him?” Lamb asked. 

“He’s actually my next door neighbour. We met one another just at the end of August and we’ve been on a couple of dates since.”

“Is he good to you?”

There was only one answer, “Yes,” She said simply.

“And is it serious?”

Claire shrugged her shoulders, “I would like to think so, but we haven’t talked or made anything exclusive yet. But, I like him and he likes me, so,”

Lamb nodded his head. “Good. Now, tell me more about him. Where does he work? Is he Scottish? Does he talk like Robert Burns?”

Claire answered, as best as she could, any more of the questions that Uncle Lamb had about Jamie. He didn’t say much, just nodded along to show Claire that he was listening to her. 

“Sounds like you really like him. And, I haven’t seen you this happy in a very long time, Claire…” 

“I know, Uncle Lamb. But, I see it now. Frank and me were good at the beginning, but I shouldn’t have said yes to getting married to him and I should have gotten out of the relationship with him sooner.”

“Doesn’t matter about that now, darling. What’s done is done, and in the past for a reason. Just promise me that you’ll protect your heart a little bit better this time around,”

“I will, I promise. But, Jamie isn’t like that. I know he isn’t…”

“I don’t need you to tell me, I can see that from your face. You haven’t stopped smiling like a fool, the entire time you’ve been talking about this Jamie Fraser. If it gets official mind, I want to meet him. I want to meet this lad who’s made you this happy in such a sort space of time.”

Claire nodded, a lump growing in her throat. “Thank you, Uncle Lamb.”

Uncle Lamb simply smiled at her and reached over the arm chair to pat her hand, gently, “Always, darling.”

XxX

That week long break was exactly what the doctor ordered.

She spent as much as time as she possibly could soaking up her limited time with Uncle Lamb. They walked through the park together, wrapped up warmly to ward off the chill (even though it wasn’t near as cold as it was up in Scotland), with a hot drink in both of their hands. They visited the independent bookshop; Claire veering off to the popular book section, while Lamb veered off towards the geography and history section. Each night they spent in each other’s company, eating food and watching a film or whatever appeared on the telly that night. 

Early Thursday morning, Uncle Lamb drove Claire and himself to the nearest flower shop. Claire went into the floristry alone, picking out the largest bunch of pink roses that they offered. Back in the car, the two Beauchamps drove in silence, not a word passed between them or a voice or song on the radio. 

The graveyard was never really that crowded, except for maybe one or two people at a time, and Thursday was no exception. The two of them walked solemnly from the car, to the plot of land where Claire’s mother and father lay peacefully. The cool autumn sun was just beginning to burn some of the fluffy clouds away and push its way through. As it did so, it highlighted the dewy morning grass and the sheen on the fallen leaves – which, with many feet trampling over them, were starting to resemble mulch. 

Crouching down, Claire swiped away the leaves and mud that had fallen next to the grave, and placed the bunch of flowers into the pot. Uncle Lamb stood on the other side of the gravestone, using an old bottle of water that he had found somewhere and a rag to clean the gravestone it’s self. 

Not knowing the time, Claire was unsure how long they stayed there. All the time not saying anything, just being inside of their own headspace of forgotten memories. 

Claire was the one who finally broke the silence, “I can’t believe they won’t be here to see it. My 30th birthday,” Claire explained when Lamb looked over at her, confused.

“What have I always told you, darling? They’re always with you, no matter what,”

Claire did believe that time helped heal wounds, but not take them away forever, and so she couldn’t stop the tear from rolling down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, hoping that Uncle Lamb didn’t notice, but of course, he did. He took her hand in his, as they stood at the end of the grave where her parent’s feet should be. He didn’t say anything else, letting her sit with her feelings, but telling her through physical contact that she wasn’t alone. 

Near midday - when the sun had risen up even further in the sky - Claire and Uncle Lamb left the graveyard, arm in arm. They travelled back home in the same manner they had beforehand, in solemn stillness. There was a tiny, miniscule bit of Claire that resented going to visit her parents. Not because she didn’t want to be near them, and feel connected to them, but because every time after she’d visited their final resting place, she just felt so shit. Shit in her body, shit in her brain, shit within herself. It drained the life out of her, and now she knew that for the rest of the day she’d switch between being sad and numb. 

Knowing exactly how she felt, Uncle Lamb didn’t probe. Instead, as soon as they walked through his front door, he made them both a cup of extra piping hot tea. Claire used the remote control to turn on the telly as something to do, indifferent to what was actually playing on the square screen, but needing some sound to fill up the empty room. When Uncle Lamb came back into the living room, he held aloft two mugs with steam pouring out the top of them and a sleeve of unopened biscuits under his arms. Claire would recognize that bright red packet anywhere – a packet of her favourite biscuits, Jammy Dodgers. And, the tea had been perfectly brewed inside of her favourite mug. 

“Thank you,” Claire whispered to him. Ripping open the packet, Claire selected one that looked like it had extra strawberry jam in the middle of it, and dunked it into her tea. When the biscuit was partially soggy, but still solid enough to hold its circular shape, Claire popped it in her mouth. She took a cautious sip of the scalding hot liquid to wash the rest of the biscuit down, sighing as she felt the tea travel down her throat and settle in her stomach.

Hours later, Uncle Lamb wondered off into the kitchen to whip up something more substantial to eat than jam biscuits. When Claire had tried to stand up off the sofa to give him a hand he gently pushed her back down, telling her she needed to keep her energy for getting back on that blasted train tomorrow evening. 

Stomach full to the brim of homemade mac and cheese, Claire couldn’t think of fitting another bite in. Uncle Lamb, however, had other ideas. He scraped the tines of his fork against his empty plate and then declared that he could go for another serving. Claire looked at him like he’d lost his mind. 

“No? None for you?” Lamb asked her, “Alright, more for me then.” 

He took his plate and Claire’s, into the kitchen, where Claire expected him to be right back out again with more cheesy goodness. 

But, rather than a plate, he held in both hands a cake. More specially, a birthday cake, complete with lit candles on the top. 

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,” he sang as he entered the living room and stopped in front of Claire, “happy birthday dear Claire, happy birthday to you! Make a wish, and blow out your candles, darling.”

Claire did just that. Holding her loose hair with one hand so it wouldn’t accidentally catch alight, she leant over to be closer to the candles. With her eyes closed, she thought of a wish, sucked in a deep breath and extinguished the whole array of candles in one fell swoop. 

“You shouldn’t have,” Claire said, when Uncle Lamb took the cake away to cut and then walked back in with two chunky slices of Victoria Sponge. The smell of burnt candles still lingered in the air as Claire sunk her fork into the butter soft layers. 

Lamb waved her concerns away, “Oh, hush, darling. I couldn’t miss your actual birthday and then not even get you a cake. Plus, I saw it in the supermarket and it looked too good to pass up. So, get it eaten.” 

XxX

Friday was Claire’s last day spent in Uncle Lamb’s company before she boarded the train back up north of the isle. As a special treat, they ordered a small takeaway for their lunch and then Claire ran back upstairs to repack her travel bag. After she’d pulled on some comfy and slouchy clothes that were sure to keep her warm on and off the drafty train, she pulled off her double bedcovers so that Uncle Lamb could put them in the wash, ready for the next time she slept over. 

“You ready to go?” Uncle Lamb asked, standing at the bottom of the stairs and looking up at her as she lugged her suitcase behind her. 

“Yes. I’ve left my dirty bedding in a pile on the bedroom floor, ready for it to be washed and put away again for next time.”

“Thank you, darling. Right, before we go, I want you to put this in your bag,” Lamb held out a small, square box that was wrapped in bright pink paper and a card to match. “It’s your birthday card and gift…”

Claire tried to shove Lamb out from her handbag, where he was forcibly pulling down one of the straps from her arm and attempting to put her present in it for safe keeping.

“Uncle Lamb, no. I can’t possibly…”

“You will, young lady! I won’t hear you say another word about it. Now, put them in your bag for safe keeping and don’t you dare open them until your birthday tomorrow morning.”

“Okay,” Claire said, “Thank you, Uncle.”

Lamb nodded to signal he’d heard her, fished his key out of his trouser pocket and then headed towards the front door. “Let’s go then, before we miss your train.”

Like déjà vu, Claire found herself enveloped in Uncle Lamb’s arms as he gave her a goodbye hug. 

“How are you getting home? Do you want some money for a taxi?” He asked.

“No, no,” She declined, “Jamie said he would pick me up. I’ll give him a text when I get on the train to double check, but I’m sure I won’t need to get a taxi.”

“Hm, Jamie…” Lamb winked dramatically. “Let me know when you’re home safe and sound. Love you, darling.”

Claire pecked him on his whiskery cheek, “Love you, too.”

Because it was almost evening, the train that Claire boarded was much quieter compared to the one on Monday morning. There was no massive rush of people pushing and shoving their way onto the train – instead, the seats were sparsely populated by individuals.

An hour or so into the journey, when Claire had gotten herself properly situated, she pulled up Jamie’s number on her phone. The dial tone rang four times before he answered with a, “Claire?”

“Hi,”

“Ye alright? Had a nice time?”

“Yes, it’s been lovely, I’ll tell you all about it when I see you. I was just ringing to see if you were still free to come and pick me up?”

“Aye, of course I am. I’ll set off 10 minutes before ye’re due to arrive, and just wait for ye by the turn styles.”

“Brilliant! Thank you, Jamie. I’m going to have to go to keep some charge in my phone, but I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Excited to see ye, lass. See you inna bit, bye.”

As promised, Jamie was standing waiting for her just beside the train station main doors. The train had rolled in at 11 on the dot, and Claire had walked as quickly as possible without looking like she was too excited. 

He wore joggers this time, rather than jeans. And a grey speckled jumper that looked so soft that Claire couldn’t make her mind whether she wanted to bury her nose in it or steal it off him and wear it herself. 

He pushed himself off of the wall he had been leaning on, when he saw her coming towards him. 

Claire felt bone tired all the way from her head to her toes, after all that traveling and a jam packed, on the go week. But, just seeing Jamie standing there, looking all deliciously rumpled, made energy zip up her spine. Jamie grinned down at her lopsidedly and pulled their hips flush together. 

“You ready to go home?” He asked her, after he’d finished planting a cheeky kiss onto Claire’s chapped lips.

“More than ready,” Claire replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> Hope you did enjoy this chapter. I know we've got hardly any Jamie, but i love this chapter a lot a lot, and i hope you did to!
> 
> Some of you may have noticed i've added the total to 20 chapters... THIS IS JUST A ROUGH ESTIMATE. Nothing is set in stone, but it will be at LEAST 20 chapters, and i wanted to keep you all in the loop. 
> 
> I'm also asking for some feedback/your opinion; I have plans for xmas themed chapters. None of them are written though and i don't think i'll be able to write them, edit and get them up for xmas. So, would you mind reading xmas themed chapters in, say, the end of december/beginning of January? Let me know please!
> 
> As always, drop me a comment and we can chat... hope to speak with you all there or at my tumblr!
> 
> xoxo


	14. Chapter Fourteen

The feeling of sitting down, knowing that she was going to her own home to sleep in her own bed, plus the warmth of the car, put Claire into a daze. Jamie’s voice, asking about her week in Oxfordshire, sounded like it was miles away.

Within a short few minutes, Jamie was pulling into his car park space in front of his cottage. A massive gust of icy cold wind blew as Claire opened her passenger door. It took her breath away and rocked the door so that Claire had to manually hold it open with the palm of her hand. Jamie had already retrieved her suitcase and handbag, and was standing waiting for her outside of her front door, as she slithered out of the seat and onto the concrete driveway. 

It was a quiet street on any given day, but now that it was late in the night, the homes were eerily quiet. Not even a sound of passing vehicles could be heard off of the main road. No other human beings were out at this time of night, and the only thing that gave away their presence at all, were the golden lights that blared outside of their windows. Other than that, it felt to Claire like she and Jamie were the only two humans awake. 

Jamie had become so familiar with Claire’s own home that he mirrored her own movements. When she chucked him the keys, he twisted them in the lock and pushed open the door, flicking the lights on as he did so. Claire was slightly taken aback by it, not upset but just pleasantly surprised. 

Her cottage was just as clean and tidy as she’d left it on Monday morning. Everything untouched and in the same state. However, Claire thought it was just as cold, if not colder, in her home than it was outside. 

Jamie spoke the same words in her brain, aloud, “God, it’s freezing in here.”

“I know,” Claire said, kicking her shoes off by the door. “I’ll put the heating on for us before we get into bed.”

Claire had her back to Jamie as she fiddled with the thermostat on the wall, and when she did turn around, she was met with a raised ruddy eyebrow. 

She felt delirious - delirious with lack of sleep and delirious with want – as she asked him, “Stay? Won’t you?”

Jamie didn’t look so sure. 

“Come on,” Claire crooned, “It’ll mean I don’t wake up alone on my birthday. Are you really going to leave me to wake up all alone, eh, Mr Fraser?”

Jamie shook his head in disbelief, but he was smiling at the same time and Claire knew she had him in the palm of her hand. 

“Ye know exactly what game ye’re playing, Miss Beauchamp… And, I’m telling ye now, if ye’re not more careful ye’re going to get burned.”

Claire just smirked at that, and began her ascend of the staircase, knowing that Jamie would follow. He did indeed, with suitcase in tow. He was still walking up the stairs when she made it to her doorway, pivoting on one foot, she hung onto the white, wooden doorframe to face him head on. 

“Don’t you need to go home and get anything? Pajamas? A toothbrush?”

Jamie brushed past her, putting the suitcase next to her wardrobe, before answering. 

“First, I’ve seen ye bathroom cabinet, I ken for a fact ye’ve got spare toothbrushes. And, second of all, nope. I usually sleep in just my boxers… will that be an issue for you?”

Oh, he’d decided to come play with the big boys tonight. 

Claire cleared her throat, “No. Not an issue. Obviously not,” Shit. Could he tell just from her face how flustered she was? “Of course you can have a spare toothbrush, not a problem.”

“Ye’ve said the word not four times, Claire. Are ye sure it’s alright or not?”

As usual, all good comebacks had flown out of her brain at the same time. So, she settled for a “Shut the fuck up, Fraser,” instead. That made him laugh. And she could still hear him giggling to himself as she opened the pajama draw and selected a pair to wear. 

Now, to most people, this would look like Claire’s usual pajama drawer… but oh, no. 

Pajamas were quite easily Claire’s favourite item. They were comfy and soft, they made great gifts and everyone needed a pair. You could never, ever go wrong with a pair of pajamas. The large quantity she had made it easy for them to sort into different piles; winter ones, summer ones, everyday ones, sexy ones and extra sexy ones. These piles were then placed into two separate drawers. So, without letting Jamie know, Claire had selected a pair of matching pjs from her ‘kind of sexy’ drawer. 

“I’m going to take my makeup off in the bathroom and get ready for bed, make yourself comfy.”

Once in the bathroom, Claire took a bit more time than she usually would, so she could prepare herself and steady her nerves. The practical side of her brain screamed she was being silly. There wasn’t any need for nerves. It was Jamie, for God’s sake. He had proved over and over again that he was a gentle giant and he wouldn’t try anything with her unless she started it or asked. 

Just as Claire was plucking up the courage to walk out of the bathroom and into her bedroom, her phone vibrated against the side of the sink where she’d left it. Uncle Lamb’s name popped up as she swiped along to accept the call. 

“Hello?”

“Hello, darling. Just making sure that you got home safely?”

As she answered the phone call, Claire walked across the landing to her bedroom. It felt silly to be standing answering a call in the bathroom, when Jamie was probably sitting waiting for her. 

“Yes, I got home…” Claire stuttered, as she happened upon the scene in front of her eyes. Jamie lay in her bed, under the covers. He had propped himself up in the bed, sitting against the headboard with the duvet and blankets covering the lower half of his body. The top half of his body, however, was on full display. The bright red of his hair, and the smattering of red hair on his chest were stark against the white of her bed sheets and the grey of her bedframe. 

Jamie appeared to be mindlessly scrolling through his phone, but at the sound of Claire’s voice, he looked up and clocked eyes with her staring at him. 

“Claire? You still there, darling?” 

She jumped at Uncle Lamb’s voice filtering through the phone, “Yeah, sorry. Um, yes, I got home safe. I’m just about to head into bed.”

She still stood in the doorway, not daring to get any closer to Jamie while she was on the phone with her Uncle, especially not with the way that Jamie’s eyes were burning her skin as they traced over her pajama clad body. 

“Ah, good. I’ll ring you again tomorrow to speak to you on your actual birthday. Goodnight Claire, darling. Love you.”

“Goodnight Uncle Lamb, love you too.”

She took the mobile phone away from her ear and let in dangle by her side, enclosed in her sweaty hand, as she stood with her lips pressed tightly together. 

“Everything alright?” Jamie asked. 

Claire nodded, unable to speak yet without a croak or a moan coming out of her mouth. 

Jamie cocked his head to one side as he gauged her reaction. 

“Ye getting into bed? Or are ye just going to stand there all night?”

At his words, instead of scrambling into bed, Claire made a show of plugging her phone into the wall to charge, placing it on the nightstand and then pulling back her side of the bed covers. Jamie had also put down his phone, and had moved away from the headboard, further into bed. He supported himself on one elbow, twisting this body so that his full attention was on Claire. His eyes traced her every movement, as she switched off the landing light and flooded the room with darkness. 

Claire could only make parts of Jamie out in the darkness, but as soon as she did climb under the sheets, his arms wrapped around her. Jamie twisted them till he got comfy; Claire’s back to his bare chest so he was the big spoon and she the little one. He pulled the covers up till it reached their necks and then sighed, tickling the strands of hair at the base of Claire’s skull. 

“I’m too tired for any funny business, mind,” Claire said aloud the dark room. She felt Jamie’s quiet laughter rumble through his chest and vibrate off of her back. 

“Definitely don’t want ye saying that the first time around.”

“Mhm.” 

The words that Claire had told Jamie about not having sex tonight, didn’t really match up with the way her body was feeling, however. Like before in the train station, her body and mind were having a fight between themselves. Were they too tired? Or could they find the energy somewhere? Claire fidgeted around, moving Jamie’s arm further up her body so it lay just underneath her breasts rather than on her stomach. And, fitting her arse more snugly in between his thighs, so that she could feel the thick corded muscles of them as he flexed and then relaxed. 

From behind her, Jamie groaned low in the back of his throat and tightened his grip around her ribcage involuntarily. 

“Ye’re gonna have to stop wriggling, lass… Otherwise were both gonna have an issue to deal with.”

Claire wriggled again to prove it, feeling a hardness that hadn’t been there before press against her arse cheek. This time Jamie sucked in a sharp breath. Claire felt him lift his hips away from hers and then quickly fitted them closed together again with a thrust. 

“Ye’re a tease, Claire, and ye know it…”

She wanted to have a witty reply on her tongue, something that would get him more riled up, but warmth was encasing her and the land of sleep calling her name. Her tongue felt heavy and thick, like cotton wool, and she couldn’t muster the energy to reply at all. She felt almost as if she was watching herself from above, as she heard herself take a deep, steady breath. And then another. And, another. Jamie could hear that her breathing was regulating out too, so he swept a hand over her hair soothingly. The last thing Claire could recall was a whispered “Night, Claire,” in her ear, before she conked out entirely. 

XxX

It was the daylight streaming through her windows and open curtains that woke Claire up on Saturday morning. It seemed that both Jamie and herself had moved hardly any in their sleep, because Jamie’s arm was still slung around her waist, cocooning Claire in. The only movements were his hips and lower half twisted away from her, which made Claire cringe to think of the possible crick in his lower back. His breathing was still steady, and Claire didn’t want to move away from his warmth yet, so she stayed still, blearily blinking and waiting for her brain to properly wake up. 

Claire focused on the dust motes floating through the air, highlighted by the autumn sun. As she did so, Jamie’s breath hitched behind her. His right hand that had been resting on her stomach moved higher till it gripped her breast, softly. The movement had made Claire’s pajama top ride up slightly, so that the underside of her breast was bare. Jamie’s hand was so large that it spanned most of her breast, with his pinky finger resting on the bare underside. Claire could feel both the sensation of the cold air hitting her skin and the heat of Jamie’s hand and body sinking through the material she was wearing and onto her skin. The combination of it all made her nipples stand up to attention, and she knew that if Jamie awoke now, he’d be able to feel it poking into the palm of his hand. 

He must have been able to feel his ears burning, because Claire heard Jamie’s breath hitch a second time and then instead of evening out, it stayed uneven and choppy. He was stock still for a moment, before whispering sleepily, “Claire?”

“Yeah?” She whispered back. 

Jamie must not have been expecting her to be awake or answer him. He jumped behind her, making the bed shake. 

“Shit, sorry… I didn’t mean to…” He made to pull away her from, obviously scared that he had made a move that Claire wasn’t ready for. 

Claire shook her head as best as she could against her pillow, making the strands even frizzier than they were to start with. She pressed her body back into his in a silent answer. “Nope, don’t you dare move. I’m warm and comfortable. And, I’m the birthday girl, so you can’t possibly say no to me today of all days.”

“Ye’re crazy, ye know that, right?” Jamie asked softly with a smile in his voice. Crazy, she might be, but it worked for Jamie pushed his full body back into the curves of hers. 

Claire squirmed around, mainly moving her lower half as she pointed and flexed her thighs and calves to wake them up and get the blood flowing. 

“Is that my birthday gift?” She asked cheekily, as she twisted her body so they were face to face. She watched as his face, neck and chest flushed a deep red at her question. 

“Ye’re making it worse by giving it attention.”

“Giving it attention,” Claire laughed. “It’s your erection that’s prodding me in the arse and now the thigh. How can I ignore it, when it’s right there? Hm?”

Jamie looked down his nose at her, to give her a dirty look.

“And, see! You do blush all the way down to your chest! I knew I’d find that out sooner or later,” Claire tiptoed her fingers up and down over the valleys of abs, watching in fascination as they tensed and relaxed. The fourth time she did it, her pointer finger strayed a little too far, tracing Jamie’s Adonis belt. Jamie’s cock twitched against the crease of her thigh as she did so, and she smirked at him, feeling oddly pleased with herself. 

Jamie opened his mouth to say something, when his phone trilled loudly from the bedside table where he’d placed it last night. He reached one long, muscular arm over to grab it, accepting the call and bringing it up to his ear. 

“Hello? Oh, aye? Wait, but… really? Can Angus not cover it? Right, fine, I’ll be there in an hour or so. See ye then, bye,” Jamie hung up with a large sigh. 

He met Claire’s amber eyes and gave her half a smile. “I’m really sorry, Claire, I’m gonna have to go into work for a bit. Something about a shipment coming in wrong, and there isn’t anybody else there to fix it…”

Claire shook her head, “Don’t worry about it. What time do you think you’ll be finished?”

He dropped the phone that had been resting in his hand on to the bedcovers, and gripped the tuft of hair at the nape of his neck as he thought. “I’m not sure,” He scoffed. “God, this is great. I had the whole day and night planned out for us.”

“We can still do tonight, Jamie. I’ll just ask Geillie if she’s free for lunch and I’ll go meet her or something to pass the time.”

“Are ye sure?” Jamie asked, rubbing his other hand up and over her pajama clad shoulder. 

“Yes, of course.” She peered up at him. “What did you want to do tonight?”

“I made reservations for 7, at a restaurant in town…”

“Oh, Jamie. You know you didn’t have to… I’ll be ready for 7, then.”

Jamie squeezed the ball of her shoulder. “I’ve got enough time to have a cup of tea with ye…”

“Come on then, let’s go. I think I’ve got some biscuits somewhere that we can dip in it,” Claire made to sit herself up, but Jamie held onto her elbow and pulled her back down to lay upon him. 

“Happy Birthday, Claire.”

She tilted her face up to meet his gaze, “Thank you, Jamie.”

XxX

“Would ye mind making the tea while I go get ye present?” Jamie asked once they were downstairs and more awake than before. 

Claire raised her eyebrow, “Jamie, you didn’t have to get me anything…”

He smiled like a schoolboy at her. “I ken I didn’t, but I did. Now, wait here while I go get it.”

By the time Jamie came back, with a bag full of gifts, Claire sat in the living room with two cups of tea and the news on in the background. 

“Here ye go,” Jamie said, placing the bag in Claire’s lap.

She gave Jamie one more look that said ‘you shouldn’t have’ before she ripped into the first gift. It was a fluffy blue blanket, perfect to wrap around herself with the incoming winter months or to throw on the sofa as decoration. Next up was a large candle, smelling of clean cotton and reminding Claire of clean clothes right out of the dryer. 

Two gifts remained, as well as her birthday card, and she unwrapped the smaller, thinner of the two next. An amazon gift voucher to buy whatever she wanted with it lay in the palm of her hand. 

“Open ye card before the last one,” Jamie suggested, as he balled up the torn wrapping paper, ready for it to be put into the bin. 

Claire did as she was told, smiling to herself as she read the little message inside of the card that he had handwritten. 

She handed the card to Jamie and then pointed to an empty space on her mantelpiece. “Put it up for me, will you?” 

With his back turned to hers for just a split second, Claire grasped the final, small, square box in her hand. She held it up to her and rattled it playfully, just like she had done since she was a child, trying to guess what may lie inside.   
Underneath the wrapping paper, the box was an unassuming black. Not a stain of words was on it to give a clue about what it might be. 

Just as she grasped the lid and gave a pull, Jamie spoke up. He stood with his full attention on her, hands behind his back and looking every inch like an over excited child. “I still have the receipt, if ye don’t like them. Ye can return them for something else…”

Claire couldn’t reply. She couldn’t reassure him. She couldn’t do much of anything except blink dazedly at the gift before her.

It was a gleaming silver bracelet. The tiny, delicate links held four main circles together. These circles had obviously been handmade and then hammered to give it a texture. The first silver circle had a large cursive C etched into it. The second, an E. And the third, a B. The last circle held in the middle a gem stone, not one that Claire was familiar with. 

Jamie started talking again to fill the silence. “It’s an opal gemstone, ye ken for ye birthday. A birthstone, they call it. And, then clearly those are ye’re initials…”

Claire stood up, with the bracelet still in its box and the box still clutched in her hand. She walked till she was toe to toe with Jamie, and she had to crane her neck to look at him. 

“Did you get this made for me, or did you buy it?” She whispered, even though there wasn’t anyone else in the room. 

Before saying anything, Jamie searched her face as if looking for the correct answer. 

“My Godfather, Murtaugh, he’s a blacksmith. He made it for me… Do ye like it?”

Claire looped her left hand around Jamie’s neck and dragged him down, a little more forcibly than she meant to, so she could kiss him. It was all teeth and tongue, hot, hard and demanding. Jamie’s eyes looked dazed when she pulled away from him. 

“I love it, Jamie. It’s too much and you’re crazy, but I love it... Will you put it on me?”

He nodded. Gingerly, he picked up the bracelet and placed it over Claire’s waiting wrist. His large fingers spanned her entire wrist, and then some, so he made sure to be gentle when he turned her wrist over to the underside. From here, he could see the delicate curve, the paleness of her skin and the blue veins that pumped blood through her body keeping her alive and well. He secured the claw clasp after the second or third try and then bent his head to kiss her wrist. 

Jesus, he was only kissing her wrist, and yet Claire felt herself get wet. Somehow even wetter than when he’d held her breast. 

“Our tea will be getting cold,” Claire said, trying her hardest to hold in her moan and or jump on the man. 

Both of them had just sat back down, and Claire was halfway through supping her tea when she realised she had another unopened present. This time from Uncle Lamb, the one he had specially told her not to open until today, and was currently residing in her handbag. 

She took the balled up torn wrapping paper from Jamie and walked to the kitchen to go put it into the bin. Her handbag was still on the counter where she had left it last night, so she dug around in it until she felt the sharp corner meet her fingertips. Uncle Lamb had thought ahead, and the card was sellotaped to the gift, so that she wouldn’t lose either. With them in hand, she walked back into the living room and sat back down. 

“Whose that off?” Jamie asked. 

Claire pulled the card out from its envelope. “Uncle Lamb. To my darling Claire. Happy 30th Birthday. Love you, forever and always, Uncle Lamb,” she read aloud. 

“Want me to put that one up as well?”

“Please, if you wouldn’t mind.” 

The weather report caught Claire’s eye as she was opening the present, so she wasn’t paying all that much attention until she looked down at her lap. The box was very similar to Jamie’s and Claire had a tiny thought of whether it might be another sort of jewellery item. Just as before, she lifted the lid, and then exhaled a watery sob. 

“Claire? What’s wrong?” Gosh, what a sight she must have looked like when Jamie turned around, tears running silently down her cheeks. With shaky hands, Claire picked out the brooch that sat in sponge like material to keep it from getting damaged. She held it in the palm of her hand, so Jamie could see what it was. 

A note also sat nestled in the box, sandwiched between the side of the box and the protective sponge material. Words wouldn’t form, only silent tears, so Claire picked the paper out of the box and handed it over for Jamie to read. He unfolded the tiny white square of paper, his fingers fumbling a bit to find the paper thin edge. 

“My darling,” he began. “I saw this in an antique shop window and thought of you instantly. I’ve always told you since you were a little girl, that robins were a sign of passed loved ones coming to visit. Do you remember when we sat on that bench in the graveyard? The one with the massive oak tree behind it? We sat there the day after you’d graduated. You wanted to tell your Mother and Father that you were going to become a doctor. We saw those two robins in the oak tree when we stood up to leave. Do you remember? And I told you it was them; they were coming to say hello to you. To protect you. To tell you how proud they’d were of you. 

And I know they’re still so proud of you. They always will be, no matter what you choose to do. As will I, darling. 

So, I bought this for you. To pin onto an item of your clothing, perhaps your work scrubs? And that way, they are always looking over you, wherever you may be. 

Love you, my darling Claire  
Uncle Lamb xxx” 

The whole entire time Jamie had been reading, Claire had been focusing on him as something to anchor herself too. Jamie looked up to meet Claire’s gaze as he finished reading Uncle Lamb’s note. The unshed tears in his eyes gave them a glassy look, as he sniffed and swallowed hard, making his Adam’s apple bob. 

“Claire…” He croaked.

“No, I’m fine,” Claire found the use of her words again, fanning her hands in front of her face in a bid to cool down her rapidly burning body temperature. 

Jamie sat back down next to her on the sofa, gently placed the crinkled paper onto the coffee table and wrapped his now free arms tightly around Claire. She stiffened for a moment and then softened in his arms. One arm was banded around her waist, while the other cradled the back of head into the crook of his neck. Claire could smell the natural scent of his skin and feel the heat and smoothness of his neck. 

Neither of them spoke a word, until Claire placed a tiny kiss to the underside of his ear and sat up a bit straighter. “I’m alright now,” She murmured, “It was just a bit of a shock, that’s all.” 

“Promise?”

“Yes. I just…” She sighed, “I just wish they were here, you know? Here to celebrate with me, in the flesh.”

There wasn’t much Jamie could say to that. Nothing he said, or anyone said, would bring her parents back, and would reverse time. Would take away Claire’s pain. God, how he wanted to, but it was physically impossible. The next best thing he could do was accept it. Accept her, and her pain, but show her she wasn’t alone in it. 

“I know, lass. I know.”

XxX

Jamie had to leave pretty soon after that. He’d protested, of course he had, but Claire practically shoved him out of the door, promising to call him if she needed and be ready for 7. 

After splashing her puffy eyes and face with cold water from the tap, Claire rang up Lamb to say thank you for her gift. More tears were shed as she heard his voice. She told him about the gifts that Jamie had spoilt her with, and the plans they had with one another for later on tonight. 

When they hung up, with promises to speak to each other again next week and have a chat about what they were doing for Christmas, Claire typed out a text to Geillis. At the stroke of midnight, when Claire had been fast asleep in Jamie’s arms, Geillis had sent her a happy birthday message. Joking that she hoped she’d beaten everyone, Jamie included, in wishing Claire a happy birthday first. Claire confirmed that she was, and asked her if she would have enough time on her lunch break to able to meet up for a coffee and a slice of cake? 

The hospital must have been having a pretty slow day, or perhaps Geillis was just sneaking time on her phone, because she answered pretty much straight away.

Geillie [11:14am] aye hen, I’ll be able to take half an   
hour… meet ye at yours in about 45 mins or so? Xxxx

Claire [11:15am] Yes! C u then xxxx

Before she knew it, Claire had just sat down with another cup of tea and one prepared perfectly for Geillis, when the doorbell went off. 

“It’s open!” Claire shouted, as Geillis turned the handle and walked right in. 

“Hello you! Happy Birthday gorgeous!” Geillis thrusted a gift bag into Claire’s hand while she unlaced her trainers and then surged at her with arms open wide. 

“I made some tea for us,” Claire mumbled into her shoulder, with a mouthful of Geillis’ hair and perfume in her mouth. 

“Come on then,” Geillis tugged at her hand to lead her towards the living room. “Ye can open ye presents while ye fill me in on everything I’ve missed.” 

Sitting in the same spot on the sofa, but this time with Geillie next to her instead of Jamie, Claire unwrapped each of her presents. A voucher for a massage at the local spa. A mug with ‘I wish you lived next door’ written on it. A travel sized bottle of the perfume that Claire always wore. And a bar of her favourite chocolate. With each item, Claire had to stop chatting to exclaim and thank Geillis profusely. 

“Do ye think he’s gonna ask ye to be exclusive, then?” Geillis asked, leaning back against the sofa and sipping at her tea, when Claire had finished filling her in on all the events of the past week or so. 

Claire shrugged, folding the envelope that her third birthday card had come in, into even smaller squares as something for her hands to do. “I’m honestly not sure.”

“Would ye like him too?” 

There wasn’t any thought about it. “Yes,” she answered. 

“I don’t wanna get ye hopes up… but I think he’s gonna.” Geillis took her wrist to inspect the gift that Jamie had given her once more, turning it this way and that so the opal gem stone twinkled. “He’s given ye such a lovely gift. A sentimental gift. An expensive gift. And ye’s not even slept with each other yet, have ye? Don’t tell me ye slept with him and not told me?” 

Claire laughed at Geillis antics and her stern face, “No, I haven’t slept with him yet. Don’t you worry, I’m not keeping anything from you.” 

Geillis nodded once, rather happy with that answer. “Good. Tonight could be the night, get ye some hot, steamy birthday sex and then…”

“Geillie,” Claire warned.

Geillis harrumphed, “Fine. What are ye wearing, anyway?” 

“I haven’t decided yet.” 

Geillis shot up from the sofa like her arse was on fire. “Ye haven’t decided yet? Are ye mad? It’s ye birthday, for god’s sakes. The lad’s gonna ask ye to be his girlfriend, and then he’s gonna take ye home and fuck ye six ways from Sunday… And ye telling me, that ye don’t know what ye wearing yet? Right, up, up, up ye get. No wonder ye called me over. This is like a code red emergency, Claire.” 

Claire felt the like her arm was being pulled out of its socket as Geillis practically dragged her off the sofa, up the stairs and into her own bedroom. 

“Now, sit,” Geillis ordered, pointing to a spot on the bed. She ripped open the double doors of the wardrobe with a flourish and began to rifle through the many items of clothing that were hung up. Her fingers moved like the wind, flying across the rail and throwing particular hangers out and onto the bed when she spotted something she liked. 

Four different dresses and three different skirts lay out on the bed, in a heap, by the time Geillis had decided she was finished snooping. “Which one ye thinking? Geillis asked, hands on her hips and blowing away a section of her fringe that had gotten caught in her eyelashes. 

Claire looked up from where she’d been picking at her cuticles while she waited for Geillis to be done. “Mmm… probably the black dress, because that goes with everything, doesn’t it?” 

“Aye, probably ye best bet,” Geillis agreed. “Ye could do a red lip with it?”

“Yes, something like that sounds good.” 

Geillis was still shouting to Claire, about making sure that Claire messaged her first thing tomorrow morning to tell her how the date had gone, as she got into her car to drive back to the hospital. Geillis blew Claire one last kiss through the unwound car window as she did a U-turn and exited the small street onto the main road, running her tires through the neighbour’s flowerbed as she did so. Claire did have to giggle to herself when she looked down and saw the tire tracks in the soil, let’s hope the neighbours hadn’t been watching out of their downstairs windows. 

Claire spent the rest of the day treating herself to some well needed and well deserved self care. 

She ran herself a scalding hot bath, sprinkling a handful of bath salts and a good slug of coconut scented bubble bath into the running water. She hissed as she lowered herself into the water and felt the warmth seep into her bones and relax her tight muscles. Claire scrubbed her body from top to toe, shaved, and then lathered up her favourite soap. The bath had been so warm, that Claire felt goosebumps pop up over her arms as she stepped out of the water, sloshing some of it over the sides and onto the floor as she did so. With the thick towel she dried off and then slapped on an all over body moisturiser. 

Checking time, and seeing that she had plenty of it, Claire pushed her arms through the sleeves of her silver satin dressing gown and decided to binge watch some more of the telly show she had missed. 

By 5pm, Claire was sitting at her vanity, in front of her mirror and contemplating how to do her hair and makeup for the night ahead. In the end, Claire forwent the idea of red lipstick. She had high hopes that she’d be fitting in some kisses and so she didn’t want to be getting bright red lipstick all over the place. Instead, she went for a smoky eye with a neutral lip. She paid extra attention to her eyelashes, making sure that the mascara didn’t make them too clumpy and spider leg like. She did the same with her blush, taking care to not paint it on and look similar to a clown.

Her hair she wrapped in a loose bun, pulling some strands out to frame her face and artfully drape down her neck. Two gold hoops were pushed through her pierced ears, giving a little pop of colour to her all black ensemble. 

Claire had poured herself a glass of white wine as she made herself up, something to steady her nerves. With her favourite playlist playing in the background and the alcohol running through her bloodstream, Claire’s nerves were starting to seep away, replaced by excitement. She felt like dressing up, she felt like throwing caution to the wind, she felt like pinning Jamie down and having her way with him – consent included, of course. 

An idea formed in her head as she danced around her room to Fleetwood Mac with wine glass in her hand. With a cheeky smile on her face, she walked over to a drawer that hadn’t been opened since she’d moved into the cottage. In fact, she hadn’t opened it when she’d been in Geillie’s spare room, and it had been a while since she’d opened it when she lived with Frank. 

She downed the mouthful of wine that she had left in her glass, and then began rummaging through the fabric in the drawer, to find exactly what she was looking for. When she’d found the matching pieces, she laid them on the bed next to her dress, feeling quite proud of herself. 

A black lace bra, a black lace garter belt, a black lace pair of knickers and a black lace pair of stockings waited for her. 

She wanted to feel confident tonight, on top of the world, for herself. Showing Jamie her lingerie would just be an added bonus. 

Claire shimmied herself into the underwear and stockings, clipping them together so they wouldn’t fall down. Then, she did the same with the dress and looked at herself in the full length mirror. She turned this way and that, checking herself from every angle and finding herself very pleased. 

Jamie was sure to lose his mind when he saw her. 

She had fired off a text to Jamie earlier on, telling him she’d be busy getting ready and the door would be open, so he could just walk right in. So, it wasn’t that much of a surprise when she heard the front door open and Jamie shout, “Hello.” 

“I’ll be down in a minute! Just need to put my shoes on and I’ll be ready to go!” Claire shouted back. 

She slipped her feet in a pair of ruby red heels, checked herself in the mirror and sprayed one last spritz of perfume, before she was tottering off down the stairs with her clutch in hand. 

The moment Claire rounded the corner to the kitchen, and Jamie saw her for the first time, Claire physically watched his jaw drop. He ran his left hand through his hair, and the gripped the strands at the back, a tic Claire had picked up on whenever he was at a loss for words. 

“What do you think?” Claire asked boldly, spinning around on her heel for the full effect, so that Jamie could see her from all angles. 

“Holy fuck, Claire,” he muttered. 

“I’m taking that as a good thing,” she said, placing her lips onto his. At least with these heels on she didn’t have to stretch her neck up to reach him. 

Jamie swallowed hard. “It’s totally a good thing. Ye look drop dead gorgeous.” 

“Thank you,” Claire ran her hand down his shirt covered bicep, and ran her own eyes over what he was wearing for the night. A nice pair of jeans and a green smart button up, that set off the blue in his eyes and the red in his hair. Topped off with a smart set of men’s dress shoes. “You don’t look too half bad yourself, Mr Fraser. Now, let’s go, I’m craving a piece of steak and maybe an Eton mess, if they have it.” 

Jamie held out his arm for her to take, “After ye then, Miss Beauchamp.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there :)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed chapter 14! 
> 
> I'll be honest, this week i've found writing way harder than usual. I hate admitting this, but i don't feel like my work is good enough, and i've thought about quitting a number of times this week. I'm not entirely sure why I'm adding this into my notes, i guess i just wanted you all to know where my head's been at recently. 
> 
> Thank you for your continued support. I don't know how i'm going to get to the finish line, or when, but i know i will get there, eventually <3


	15. Chapter Fifteen

The restaurant Jamie had booked was tucked away down a side street; one Claire would never have thought to venture down by herself. 

Outside of the restaurant, tables and chairs were stacked together – waiting for next year when the weather became better and customers could sit underneath the sky. Fairy lights were strung overhead both inside and outside, giving the dining area a soft, golden glow. The sound of chatter and cutlery clinking meshed together as Jamie held the door open for Claire to walk through. 

“Can I help you?” A server asked, standing at the seating podium with a stack of menus in his hand. 

“Aye. I should have a reservation for two. It’ll be under the name Fraser.” 

The server ran his finger down a large bound book, which held lines upon lines of different names. He stopped three quarters of the way down when he found Jamie’s name. “Here you both are.” He gestured right with a flick of his hand. “If you’ll just follow me right this way, I’ll get you all set up.”

The table was hidden away in a corner, leaning up against a large window that framed outside. Perfect for watching other people come and go. A vase of fresh flowers, and two small tea light candles sat on the cloth covered table, right next to where the server placed down a set of menus. 

“Somebody will be right with you both to order drinks,” the server said, and then scurried off to seat the next lot of diners. 

Jamie helped Claire shrug off her winter coat, hung it up as she sat down, and then tucked her chair in – creating a tiny screech as the legs of the chair slid across the tiled floor. Claire smiled her thanks at him and reached across to grab a menu for herself. By the time he had sat himself down in his own chair, Claire had already perused half the menu – whipping past the starters in search for her beloved desserts. 

“Can I get ye both something to drink?” A different server stood at the side of the table this time, wearing all black and a pad of paper and a pen in his hand. 

Jamie looked up from where, he too, had been deciding what he wanted to eat, “I’ll just have half a pint of beer, if ye’ve got it. Claire, what ye having?” 

“Can I just have a glass of white wine, please?”

“Tonight’s house special? Or…”

“Just the house special will be fine, thank you.” 

The waiter nodded, writing both drinks orders down on the pad of paper. “I’ll bring those over to ye, and I’ll be back to take ye food orders.”

“Are we getting starters? Or are we just doing mains and desserts?” Claire asked Jamie. 

“Yeah, we can do, if ye want?” 

The waiter, whose name tag read ‘Thomas’ came back with their drinks, setting down a wine glass in front of Claire, and a pint glass only filled half the way with amber, frothy liquid in front of Jamie. He took their food orders; a steak – cooked medium rare – for Claire and a slice of beef Wellington for Jamie, before leaving them, finally, to their own devices. 

“Did you get everything sorted at work?” Claire asked, taking a sip of her perfectly chilled wine. 

“Kind of,” Jamie replied. “I’ve been on the phone for most of the day trying to figure out who signed the shipment to go ahead. The best I can figure is that we’ve got an order that was meant for a business in the south of America, and they’ve, hopefully, got ours. I won’t ken properly until Monday, though, when I can speak with a member of the team.” 

“Well, good luck with that…” 

Jamie laughed, “Thanks. So, what did ye do all day after I left? Did ye manage to see Geillis then?” 

Claire retold her day to him, starting off with ringing Uncle Lamb after Jamie had left to get a shower and drive off to work. Just as she was telling him what gifts Geillis had bought her, and when she was thinking about using the spa voucher, their food arrived. She stopped mid-conversation to cut into her steak – very happy to see that it had been cooked exactly as she had asked for it to be done. The first piece of steak she popped into her mouth basically melted. It cut like butter, and wasn’t full of gristle or hard to chew and swallow. It was covered in just the right amount of seasoning, not too salty and not too peppery that it hit the back of your throat. 

“Fucking hell, that’s heaven,” Claire said, through another mouthful of steak, and then spearing some green beans onto her fork to join the party. 

Jamie chuckled at her expression, “Good. I’m glad.” 

The vegetables that accompanied her steak were just as amazing. They also had been cooked to perfection. They hadn’t been boiled within an inch of their lives, so the green beans and the broccoli still held its lovely green colour. They weren’t rock hard, or too soggy – they were just as Claire would have wanted them to be. And my god, the chips. Hand cut, obviously. They were crispy on the outside, with the right amount of salt sprinkled over them and still fluffy in the middle. 

Neither of them could speak as they ate their food, and before long, both of their plates were cleared. At one point, Jamie had asked if he could try a piece of her steak and rather than saying anything, Claire had just given him a death stare. He was allowed to take a chip off of her plate in compensation. 

Claire moved the last chip that she had stabbed on her fork, around the empty plate – trying to soak up any of the butter, salt or steak juices that might be left. With a happy smile on her face, she swallowed the last of her meal. Dabbing her mouth with her napkin, she placed the dirty napkin, knife and fork onto her plate, ready for it to be cleared away and leaned back in her chair. 

“Everything to ye liking?” The waiter asked, when he came back around to take away their plates. 

Both of them complimented the food massively. 

The waiter smiled, “That’s what we like to hear. Dessert should be around 10 minutes or so. Would either of ye like a drinks top up?” 

Jamie shook his head, “I’m driving, so it’s a no from me.”

“And I’ll be alright too, thank you though,” Claire said, eyeing her still quite full wine glass. 

“Not a problem. Just let me know if that changes.” 

Even though the waiter had now disappeared back into the kitchen, and they were alone, Jamie and Claire stayed silent. Claire looked away from watching her reflection and the restaurant’s reflection in the window, to find Jamie staring at her. She bit her lip, shyly, as she started right back at him – playing him at his own game. Claire cocked her head in question, and Jamie mirrored her actions, sweeping his eyes down the upper half of her body that could see over the table. 

“What?” She questioned. “What are you looking at?” 

Claire sat entranced as Jamie raised the pint glass to his lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, as he drank the last of his alcohol in two swallows, before placing the glass onto the table with a muffled thump. 

“I’m looking at ye,” He answered bluntly. “Have ye had a good birthday so far?” 

She nodded, “Yes. It’s been lovely, and more than I could have hoped for.” 

Jamie was quiet again after that. Messing with the edge of the tablecloth, looking outside the window, glancing at her and then back to the tablecloth in a repetitive motion. Claire was about to open her mouth and ask him if he was all right when he spoke first. 

“I really like ye, Claire. Ye know that, don’t ye?” 

Claire nodded slowly, meeting his heated gaze head on again. 

“And,” he said, fidgeting with his hands. “I’d really like to make it exclusive with ye, Claire. But, in all honesty, I’m scared…”

The voices of other diners had become louder and louder as the evening had gone on, and the restaurant had become busier. They’d become a hum in the background, sometimes becoming so loud that Claire could pick out parts of their conversations. But now, she couldn’t hear nor see anything but Jamie. 

A solid lump formed in the pit of her stomach, making her wish she hadn’t eaten all that steak quite so fast.

“Scared of what?” She asked, grimacing already at what his answer might be. 

Jamie shrugged his broad shoulders and blew out a breath. “Ye’ve only been single for a couple of months. And we both ken that being with the same person since ye turned 20 is a big thing. Do ye ken that ye want to be in a relationship? Because if ye looking for a fling, I don’t think I’m the right lad for ye.” 

Claire let herself not say anything for a beat. Thinking over his question and how she really felt as best as she could. 

“I’ve spent so much time of my life not having to think for myself,” She started, “I don’t mean about the little things, or having a mind of my own. I mean that there was always somebody to think with, plan with, decide with, and it’s harder than I thought to break that pattern. I’m still trying to figure out how to think for myself. I always thought my future would hold steadfast, and then it didn’t and I felt like my whole world was crashing down. Not because I missed Frank, but because I didn’t know how to exist without him. I never in a million years expected to meet anyone so soon after. Especially, not someone like you, Jamie. I never remember Frank making me feel the way you do, not even when we were young and first started dating. I feel happy with you. I feel wanted. I feel alive. I feel free. I don’t know a lot of things, but I do know that I don’t want a fling. I want you, and that’s for certain. My mind is made up on that, and no one can tell me otherwise. Will you trust me on that?”

“Aye,” Jamie coughed to clear his throat. “Aye, I will. Promise me one thing, though, Claire. Promise me ye’ll tell me if ye start to feel differently about us.” 

“I promise, but only if you’ll do the same.” 

“I promise. So,” a smile curved up at the corners of his lips. “Will ye be my girlfriend, Claire?”

She leaned over the table, and took his hand that lay next to the tea light, in hers. Brushing her thumb over the scar that covered his knuckle and the bottom half of his middle finger. 

She felt as giddy as a child on Christmas morning, as she replied, “yes, of course I will.”

The timing could have been a little better, because as soon as Jamie went to stand up and plant a kiss on her lips over the table, the waiter arrived again with dessert in hand. Jamie had ordered crème brulee, which appeared to have the perfect crunchy and golden top. Claire had ordered her beloved Eton mess that she’d been banging on about for half the day. It came displayed fancily in a wineglass, balanced on a rectangular plate. Written on the plate, in a squiggly mess of raspberry jam, was ‘Happy Birthday Claire’. 

She shook her head with a smile painted across her lips. “You’re unbelievable. Seriously. When’s your birthday? Because I’m going to have to start planning now, so I can pull out all the stops.” 

Jamie winked at her, as he cracked the top of his dessert satisfyingly with the back of his spoon, and then scooped out the creamy under layer. “It’s May first, so ye better get ye thinking cap on, lass.”

Claire’s Eton mess was just as good, if not better, than she imagined. The restaurant’s food was simply out of this world, and she was already deciding in her head what she would order next time they dined out. The cloud like meringue pieces disappeared in her mouth. Mixed with the raspberry jam, cream and tartness of the strawberries, it was perfect. Not too sweet and not too sour. 

Tummy full, heart very happy and some remnants of liquid courage in her veins, Claire was more than ready to get out of the restaurant and back to her own home. The moment was delayed slightly by her and Jamie disagreeing about who would pay the bill. 

“I’m not having it,” Jamie had argued. “I made the reservation, I planned it, and it’s ye birthday. I’m not letting ye pay. Put ye purse away, Claire, or so help me God. Ye can pay for the next one, okay?” 

“I’m holding you to that, Fraser,” she said, stuffing her purse back into her clutch bag. 

As Jamie flagged down the waiter to ask for the bill and then pay it, Claire shrugged on her coat and coated her lips in a fresh layer of light pink lipstick followed by clear gloss. Using her little finger to clear up the edge of her bottom lip where she had over applied, Claire noticed Jamie watching her, in the mirror of her compact. Those baby blues traced over her lips, the way the fresh coat of lipstick sat on them and how they looked as she rubbed them together to smooth out the makeup. 

He removed the correct amount of money to pay the bill from his wallet; only taking his eyes off Claire’s to count the notes and the coins one last time. 

By the time they left the restaurant, the usual Scottish wind had died off, but still left behind an icy sting in the air. Claire’s heels click clacked over the tarmac as she walked from the restaurant to where Jamie had parked his car. Slamming the car doors shut, she perched her clutch bag onto her lap as she reached behind herself for the seat belt. Jamie did the same, securing his seat belt in safely and then switching on the car heaters. 

The drive home seemed to go on forever. Much longer than it had taken them to get there in the first place. 

Jamie drove one handed. One hand on the steering wheel and the other placed politely on Claire’s nylon covered knee. It wasn’t until Claire spread her legs a little wider, knobbly knees no longer touching, that he picked up on her ques. His large hand moved a bit further up, until his little finger and ring finger disappeared underneath her dress. Claire exhaled louder than before, catching Jamie’s attention. He took his eyes off the road for just a split second to glance at Claire’s side profile and then down to where his hand rested. 

She said nothing. Trying not to give away too early how she felt and what she wanted. But her body betrayed her. The heat from his hand felt so good, stroking the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. If he would just move up some more, he would be touching her bare skin instead of the stockings. 

She couldn’t help it. Claire slid down in the car seat, and tilted her hips up towards the roof, so that Jamie’s hand would also move and hopefully, catch her bare skin. Jamie stretched his hand even further, middle finger now joining the others under her dress, and pinky finger grazing a rougher material than the one that covered Claire’s knees. 

He moved his smallest finger higher up again, past the strange rough material, finding a different, softer, warmer texture… Claire’s bare thigh. 

It took him longer than it should have for his brain to switch on and put all the pieces together. She was wearing a set of stockings. That’s why the material felt coarser, it was probably lace or…. Fuck, lace. 

He rolled the car down to a gentle stop as they approached a red traffic light. He turned his head to find Claire with her head tipped back against the headrest, exposing her long, unmarked neck, and her eyes shut tight. 

“Ye gonna kill me, ye ken that? Is that what ye trying to do, eh?” The first words either of them had spoken since they’d gotten into the car. Even to his own ears, his voice sounded strained. 

Claire opened one of her eyes to look at him, before closing it shut again. “Higher,” she whispered. 

Who was he to say no to a plea like that? 

The traffic light turned green, signalling that it was safe enough to pass through. With his foot down on the pedal, Jamie followed Claire’s request. 

He brushed two fingers against the center of her knickers experimentally. Claire’s body jumped at the contact. He curled his knuckles to withdraw his hand, but Claire pressed herself back down upon them. He could feel the heat from between her legs, as he replaced his fingers back to their original spot. He could feel the imprint of her labia through the thin fabric as he traced his finger over and around. At this angle he couldn’t add his thumb into the mix, to add any extra pressure, so he settled for rubbing over her sex in a repeated motion. 

Jamie let muscle memory take over, navigating him past familiar houses, and along the streets which would take them home. He couldn’t exactly place how they’d gotten from A to B – his brain was too busy making up scenarios of it’s own. 

Was it a matching set, that Claire wore underneath her skin tight black dress? Would she let him peel it off of her? And would she already be wet by the time he rolled those goddamn stockings down her lean legs, and pushed her knickers to the side? What noises could he draw out of her as he pushed her to tip over the edge?

He pulled the car into his driveway swiftly. He finally withdrew his hand from her body, as they both flung open the car doors in a hurry. Jamie watched the tail lights of the car flash orange as he locked it, and then followed in Claire’s high heeled footsteps towards her cottage door. 

Claire turned the key in the lock to secure them inside, and then she turned to him with a hungry glint in her shining eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I decided to post this chapter early as a little treat :)
> 
> Hope you all enjoy, and i'm sorry for being a tease... oops ;)
> 
> I also wanted to say a massive thank you for all your lovely comments and support on the last chapter. I'll admit i hit a bit off a wall with my writing, but i will be finishing this story. It will no longer be following my original plan lol and will have way more fluff than angst, but after this year, i think we could all do with the fluffy lightness. 
> 
> See you all for chapter 16! xoxo


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is absolute, utter filth... would advise you don't read this chapter in public ;)

Claire grabbed his hand and led him up the stairs. 

He trailed behind her, entranced by the sway of her hips as she walked onwards. He’d seen with his own two eyes that the dress she wore was skin tight. Before she’d donned her thick winter coat earlier in the evening, he’d been able to see that it clung to her stomach and hips. And as they’d sat in the restaurant, her bottom half had been covered, but he could make out the roundness of her breasts. 

Now that he was finally behind her, he could also appreciate the way the material moulded to her delightful arse. He couldn’t wait much longer to touch her. All of her. 

As they reached the top of the stairs, Jamie placed his hands on Claire’s hips and spun her around so they faced each other. Jamie could feel the softness of her breasts as they squished against his hard chest and the jut of her hips as they knocked against his own. She was pliant in his arms as he trailed soft, wet kisses down her neck. As he did so, letting his hands reach down to squeeze that arse he’d wanted to touch for so long. 

Feet moving, he walked Claire backwards into her own room, and reluctantly pulled back to look at her face. 

“Are ye sure?” He asked. 

Claire nodded quickly, running her hands up his chest to grab at the collar of his button up shirt. “Yes, yes, I’m sure.” 

In response to her consent, Jamie grabbed two fistfuls of material at her waist and shucked up her dress until he could easily reach the hem. 

“Can I take this off ye?” He asked again, fingertips plucking at the edge. 

Claire couldn’t get her words out fast enough. “Yes, yes, please do. I don’t think I can bare it any longer.” 

Slowly, teasingly, Jamie peeled the offending garment up and over her head. Revealing more and more of her body and more and more of the lingerie she wore underneath. Once it was off, he threw it to the side in a rumpled mess, uncaring where it landed. He kept his eyes on Claire’s face, noticing how the static from the dress had caused her once sleek bun to become lopsided and a shit ton of baby hairs to stand up. 

It was her chest, unsurprisingly, that caught his attention first. He could see it, out of his peripheral vision, rising and falling rapidly as she breathed choppily. Jamie let his eyes drift down, his mind trying its hardest to compute and keep up with everything it was seeing. 

Black lace partially covered her breasts. With every unsteady intake of breath Claire took, they heaved upwards, begging to be free of their confines. The fragile lace barely covered her breasts; it stretched just enough to cover her areolas and nipples. And it would have done its job perfectly if Claire wasn’t turned on, but the way her breath stayed uneven and her nipples obviously poked through the fabric, showed that she was. 

He couldn’t make out what colour they were; darker? Or rosy from the blood flow? But he could feel them as he cupped the side of her breast and brushed his thumb over it. Claire sighed dreamily and pushed her breast further into the palm of his hand. 

As he plucked the bud between his thumb and forefinger, Jamie glanced a look lower down. 

She did indeed wear a garter belt, to hold up those bloody stockings, which he knew would star in his fantasies for years to come. The black knickers she wore completed the matching set. 

Left hand still giving her nipples the attention they deserved, Jamie dug his right hand into the thick flesh where her stomach dipped into her hip. He held her upright as swiped his tongue along her gloss covered bottom lip and then tangled their tongues together. Claire panted into his mouth, as Jamie sucked oxygen through his nose and into his lungs in an effort to clear his foggy mind. 

He nudged his nose with hers and then moved his mouth to the shell of her ear. “Lie down on ye bed,” he whispered. 

Claire did as she was told without any complaint, lying with her head on her pillows and her feet where they would be as if she was going to sleep. Jamie stood at the end of the bed, watching as she got herself set up and comfortable. She didn’t need to say anything to tell Jamie what she wanted; her body did it for her. 

From this height, staring down at her, Jamie felt like a predator about to devour his prey. Her usually milky toned skin was flushed a light pink instead, particularly in the areas where he had grabbed at and kissed. Seeing his eyes peruse her body up and down, Claire bent her knees and spread her legs open. The stiletto points of her red heels dug uncomfortably into the duvet. 

Jamie made a show of pulling down one leg at a time, removing the heels, and then replacing her leg back to its bent position. Now that her feet were bare, and Claire was more relaxed, he could focus his attention elsewhere. 

Similar to in the car, Jamie cupped Claire’s sex in the palm of his hand. She squirmed in his hand until he took pity on her. Blue eyes clashed with amber as he unclipped the stockings and rolled them down her legs. Claire pointed her toes as he did so, helping to get them off of her body faster. He took a minute to appreciate those long limbs, which he had admired from afar for so long. The arch of her foot was high and graceful, just like a ballet dancer’s would be. And her toes were painted the prettiest shade of blue Jamie had ever seen. 

When those, too, had been chucked over his shoulder, Jamie hooked his fingers into the sides of her knickers. He dragged the flimsy material down her legs, again with Claire’s help, till it sat dangling off of her bony ankle. 

Now that nothing was covering her, Jamie got his first good look at Claire. And, by God, she was breathtaking. 

Her cunt was the loveliest pink colour. All bare, with just one landing strip of hair sitting above the hood of her clit. Her clit poked out, sitting there asking to be touched, rubbed, licked and sucked. He swiped his middle finger through the center of her folds, feeling already, without even entering her, how wet she was. 

Removing his finger, Jamie crawled up the bed until he lay next to her. He propped one hand underneath himself to hold himself up and used the other to cup the weight of ones of Claire’s bra incased breasts. 

“It unfastens at the front,” Claire said breathlessly, as he played with her. 

Moving his hand away from her nipple, Jamie unhooked the hook and eye glasp with effortless ease and let the bra fall away. It was Claire who reached underneath herself to pull it down her arms, getting rid of the final piece so she was entirely bare to Jamie. 

Her breasts were just as soft as he’d felt when they were pressed against him. They were the perfect globe to fit in his hand, and perky too, with a rosy pink nipple topping each of them. He bent his head towards them, taking her nipple in his mouth and tracing his tongue around it in a circular motion. 

Claire moaned out into the room. The first proper, pleasurable vocal sound that Jamie had heard her make. She did it again, cradling his head to her breast to keep him there. He peered up at her glass face to find her eyes closed again, with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth so tightly that it was turning white. 

His free hand, that had been twisting gently at her other abandoned nipple, shifted to her mouth to untuck her lip. 

“I want to hear ye,” Jamie mumbled into her collarbone. Leaving her breasts, he began to lave wet kisses on the hollow of her neck. 

Claire jerked her head in a nod. A smile painted itself on her face, as, with her eyes still shut, she placed the palm of his broad hand onto the lower half of her stomach. Underneath his hand, he could feel the contrast between her bare skin and the lace of the garter belt that still sat below her tummy button. 

Laying soft kisses along her pillow like breasts, Jamie slid his hand south, stopping when the fingertips of his pointer finger and middle finger touched her clit. The first circle he drew on it had Claire breathing out a very stuttered moan. He did it again, and again, and then, on the third time, switched the motion from clockwise to anticlockwise – interested to see what Claire’s reaction would be. She wriggled her hips in a plea for more, more, more. 

Forefinger staying toying with her clit, Jamie ran his longest finger through her folds, splitting her open in two. He pressed further into Claire, feeling her walls grip him as his finger disappeared inside of her. Jamie crooked his hand in a ‘come hither’ motion and tilted upwards. She was unbelievably hot and slick. He suspected it wouldn’t be long before she was dripping down his wrist. From far away he could hear the sound of Claire writhing, her hair rubbing against the cotton pillowcase. 

Jamie was about to add his forefinger inside of her, when Claire reached down to hold his wrist in place. He stopped instantly. He must have had a worried expression on his face, because Claire used her thumb to smooth over the lines that sometimes formed on his forehead. 

“I don’t want you to stop fully,” she said breathily. “Just, I like it better if you use your middle and ring finger, instead of your pointer.” 

Jamie breathed a large sigh of relief. “Aye, I can do that.” 

Following her instructions, Jamie replaced his pointer finger with his thumb on her clit, and slid his ring finger inside of her to join his other. 

That did the trick. If he thought Claire had been moaning before, this was another thing entirely. 

He continued with the motions. Thumb gliding over her clit in tiny circles, and fingers curling over and over inside of her. 

“Harder,” Claire muttered. “Touch my clit harder.” 

Jamie added extra pressure on her, just as she’d so nicely asked for. 

Both of her hands clutched at her sheets, pulling them off of the corners and making them all tangled and rumpled. 

If it was possible, Jamie thought, he was getting harder. The blood in his head was rushing dangerously towards his cock, making it strain uncomfortably behind his boxers and the zipper of his jeans. He could feel Claire getting wetter by the second. Her walls were clenching repeatedly, her head was tipped back as far as the pillow would allow with moans tumbling helplessly out of her mouth, and her hands scrabbled to find something better than soft sheets to ground herself with. 

Surely, all of those things pointed to the fact that she was about to come any second now. 

To try to give himself some sort of reprieve from the throbbing happening behind his pants, Jamie ground his hips into Claire’s mattress. The movement caused a chain reaction. His arm, wrist and hand twisted differently, causing his fingers to slow down their pace. Claire let out a low cry as Jamie wrapped his fingers into the fingers crossed sign. Mixed in with her cry was a squelching sound. 

“Ah, ah… fuck, sorry. It happens sometimes when I get really wet…” Claire babbled, trying to shut her legs in embarrassment. 

Jamie wasn’t having any of it. That squelching noise was, by far, one of the hottest things to ever heard reach his ears. And if she did it every time they had sex, well then, he’d be a lucky man. 

He told her as much, as he forced her legs back open. “Don’t ye dare apologize. I think that’s the hottest sound I’ve heard, and I’m gonna make it my life mission to make ye do it over and over again.” 

Jamie returned to his task with renewed vigor. No matter how much his hand cramped, there was no way he was stopping until Claire came, messily. 

It only took another two swipes of her clit and then she was off. Her body tightened up, walls gripping his hand so tightly he couldn’t move it. She let out a string of nonsense. The only thing he could make out was his name and the word fuck. 

The big rush might have faded, but even after Jamie removed his hand from between her thighs, Claire was still twitching. Jamie watched in fascination as her empty cunt fluttered with aftershocks. Her slick still covered his hand, connecting the two fingers with a string of milky coloured liquid. 

The look that Claire shot him when she opened her eyes, hit him right in the heart. 

She blinked dazedly, eyes glassy with release. Jamie never took his eyes off Claire’s as he sucked both fingers, which had only been inside of her moments before, into his mouth. Claire ran her tongue along the seam of her lips, as if they were bone dry and said wobbly, “You’re wearing way too many clothes.” 

Jamie sat on a tall knee as, with shaky hands, she threaded his bottom button through the hole. Moving on to the one above it, and the one above that, and so on. When his shirt was unbuttoned, showcasing his spectacular set of abs and spattering of red chest hair, Claire leaned up to push it off of his shoulders. Jamie let her. Noticing, as she did the hard work, that all the twisting and turning she’d been doing had undone her sleek bun completely. Her hair tumbled down, hair tie lost somewhere within the bed, partially covering one breast. That was until Jamie scooped up all of her hair into a makeshift ponytail at the base of her neck and settled his lips against hers. 

Claire moaned into the kiss, as she tasted herself on his tongue. Jamie felt heady with want, his body hot from the inside out and his mind only able to focus on one thing; Claire. 

Shirt off, Claire moved her attention to his belt buckle. Hands clenched into fists by his sides, Jamie let Claire take her time and explore. She used the nail of her pointer finger to trace the outline of his cock, which was pressed up against his trousers. The friction the nail caused through his jeans made Jamie jerk his hips involuntarily. 

She unlooped his leather belt and pulled down his zipper, the noise jarringly loud in a room full of heavy breathing. A persistent tug got Jamie’s jeans halfway down his legs. Claire eyed the bulge in his boxers, and he had no gauge of her reaction until she raised one manicured eyebrow at him. Jamie smirked. But that quickly died away, when Claire cupped his cock and gave him a firm squeeze. 

The groan tore out of his mouth. 

Standing up off the bed, Jamie removed his socks, tugged his jeans off the rest of the way and dug his thumbs into the waist of his boxers. The elastic making a pinging sound as he ripped them off. 

His cock bobbed against his stomach as he kneeled back onto the bed. He gripped his left hand at the base of it, twisted his wrist and then stroked up towards the mushroom like head, which was almost purple with the rush of blood flow. He watched Claire watch him. It was a surreal moment, watching the woman he’d thought about and wanted for two months now, stare intently at his most private of actions. 

Her hand was a lot steadier this time, when she touched his bare cock for the first time. 

The size of her hand compared to his manhood, the way her thumb and finger just didn’t quite touch as she gripped the root of him, and the feel of her soft, uncalloused palm… it was all too much. If he didn’t stop her now, he was going to blow any second. And it wasn’t going to be pretty. 

Jamie opened his mouth to say the words, but instead moaned her name as she lowered her lips around his cock. Her tongue had just poked out to trace the thick vein that ran along the underside of his shaft, when Jamie had to pull gently on her hair to get her to stop. 

“Ye gonna have to stop, Claire. I’m gonna blow otherwise, and I’d rather not do that until I’ve been inside of ye properly.” 

She nodded as best she could with just the tip in her mouth. He slipped out of Claire’s mouth, hissing as his saliva coated cock was met with cold air instead of a warm wet hole. 

“Are you clean?” She asked, small hand fondling his balls with featherlike touches. 

“I haven’t slept with anyone since last year, are ye?” 

Claire peered up into his face, “Mhm, I got tested after the split. We don’t have to use a condom if you’re clean. I’m on the implant, so…” 

Jamie hadn’t gone bareback with anyone since his serious relationship with Annalise, and that was almost three years back. And even then, Annalise was the only person he’d ever had sex with, without the use of a condom. That would make Claire his second. And my God, he was already imagining how good she’d feel. 

He nodded erratically, “Only if ye’re sure?”

“Yes, Jamie. I’m sure.” 

He knelt down between her legs, settling his hands on the backs of her thighs, just underneath the crease of her arse cheeks to pull her down the bed a little. 

He dipped his thumb back into her folds, making sure that she was wet enough for him to slide in comfortably. Finding that she was, Jamie replaced his hand with the tip of his cock, sliding it up and down the seam of her. With some of Claire’s come coating him, Jamie spread open her labia with one hand and placed himself directly at her opening. 

He pushed in, once, twice, three times. Three times it took him until he was fully seated inside of Claire. Both of them groaned as he bottomed out and pressed his hips as tightly to Claire’s as humanly possible. 

“Ye feel so fucking good,” Jamie said between gritted teeth, as he swiveled his hips to see how it would feel. 

“Move,” Claire pleaded back to him. “Please, Jamie. Please, move…” 

He drew his hips back at Claire’s demand, all the way out till just the sensitive tip remained and then plunged back into her heat. There wasn’t anyway to prepare himself for the way Claire felt, it was better than anything he’d tried to imagine or draw up in his head while wanking in the shower. She was hot, so unbelievably hot and slick. 

Jamie changed the angle with a tilt of his pelvis, gripping onto Claire’s hips as something to hold as he started to pound into her. When he’d got a rhythm going, he placed his attention back on her clit. 

Jamie was at war with himself. Stuck between watching Claire, as she lifted her arms above herself to grip the pillow tightly and moaned in ecstasy. Or watching the way she took his cock over and over again. How pink her cunt was getting from his actions, how hard her clit had become as he rubbed it. 

He’d tried to fight it off for so long, but the familiar tingling warmth was building in his body. Traveling down his spine, where it would land at the base, making his balls pull up and release. 

Not stopping once, Jamie pushed their bodies closer and closer together. Only happy when he lined their torso’s up and he draped his over Claire’s. In this position, it was harder to stimulate Claire’s clit, but it did mean that he’d be able to tuck his face into her space between her neck and her shoulder. As he did so, Claire wrapped her legs around his waist, rocking her pelvis in time with Jamie’s thrusts. 

Claire whimpered, her breath hot in his ear as she rested her temple against his shoulder. “Jamie… god, fuck, Jamie, I’m close…”

He thrust up into her again, eyes closing shut at the white hot pleasure he could feel burning brighter and brighter. 

“There, ugh… right there.” 

Jamie could feel the moment Claire’s orgasm barreled through her. She clamped down on him again, then released, then clamped down in a repetitive wave like motion. With their chests sandwiched together, he could feel her heartbeat racing at what felt like a hundred miles an hour, and he knew she must be able to feel his too. Just like last time, his name tumbled off of her lips, panted out into the room and then disappearing like smoke. 

Claire now happy and sated for the second time, Jamie was free to find his own ending. His thrusts grew stuttered and sloppy as he chased and chased for release. As he felt his balls draw up, he tucked his head into Claire’s shoulder, biting the smooth, warm ball of it as he came with a groan of her given name. 

The two of them lay there, in silence, for a bit. Waiting for their breaths and heartbeats to return back to normal. Jamie was the first to move. He indulged Claire in two mind numbing kisses, before using his hands and his forearms to press himself up. She unraveled her legs, letting them fall open as he slid out of her. 

“I’ll go get a towel,” he said, aware that their combined fluids were dripping out of Claire and making a mess. He retrieved a hand towel out of her bathroom and then wiped gently between her legs. 

With both of them cleaned up, Jamie tucked himself into the empty space beside Claire. She lay prone, eyes closed and with a sleepy, sated smile across her lips. He went to drape an arm over her waist, but Claire laced her hand through his and brought it up to her mouth. She kissed the back of his hand, softly. 

“Happy?” Jamie mumbled into her hair.

“Mhm, very…” 

He thought that Claire was about to say something else, but before she could get the rest of her words out, she let out a sigh and a small snore. Jamie listened to her breathing in and out, in and out, in and out. She slept so peacefully, the fine lines around her eyes and laughter lines around her mouth smoothed out. Jamie nestled closer to her. He’d knew how good she’d smelt when he’d given her a hug before they left for the dinner reservation. But now, with a mixture of perfume, coconut shampoo, hairspray and sweat intermingled onto her skin, she smelt out of this world. 

Jamie inhaled again as his chin rested lightly on the top of her head. He smiled to himself, as he realised their hands were still joined even in their sleep state. 

XxX

By the time Claire woke up on Sunday morning, Jamie was gone. 

She stretched out her arm to feel if the bed was still warm, but it was clot cold – a sign that he hadn’t been in the bed for a while now. 

Swinging her legs out of bed, Claire pulled on her warm dressing gown and pushed her feet into a pair of slippers, which she kept by the door. Across the landing she padded, pushing the bathroom door open. Toilet used, teeth brushed and last nights mascara removed from underneath her eyes – Claire walked down the stairs. 

She could smell coffee and hear the low hum of the telly; by the time she hit the third to last step. 

Jamie stood, leaning up against the counter with the kettle brewing, as Claire rounded the corner. 

“Good morning,” she said to get his attention. 

“Morning,” Jamie’s breath was minty fresh as he kissed Claire on the lips. “Do ye want some coffee? Or some tea?” 

“Tea, please.” 

Jamie waved her away, “Go sit down and I’ll bring it in to ye, before we decide what we’re gonna do for the day.” 

“Do for the day?” Claire asked. 

Jamie nodded, pouring in boiling hot water into two mugs; one with a tea bag in it and one with a healthy teaspoon of coffee grounds. “Aye. I’ve got the day off work, and so have ye, so we’re gonna do something together. It can all be part of ye birthday weekend.” 

Claire battered her eyelashes up at him, coyly, “And what happens if I just want to stay in and do nothing all day?”

The tone in her voice made Jamie stopped mid stirring and look up at her. God, the way he looked with one hand leaning on the counter, slouchy clothes and hair all fluffy from where he’d slept on it. Claire wanted to climb him then and there. 

“Then that’s what we’ll do instead,” he replied, his voice like sticky syrup. “The birthday girl does get everything she wants, after all.” 

XxX

After caffeine, the first thing on the agenda was having a shower. And who was Claire to say no, when Jamie stripped just as fast and followed after her into the shower tray. 

He pumped two pumps of her shower gel onto her loofaa and then took it upon himself to make sure she was nice and clean. Making sure to pay special attention to get her breasts and hard peaks of her nipples extra soapy. 

He did the same thing to himself, using the same shower gel to clean himself thoroughly. All the while doing so with a smirk written all across his face. 

Claire couldn’t take any more accidental touches. Precariously, she balanced one foot onto the knozzle that turned the shower on and off. She was easily wet enough from the shower to guide him in to her without much foreplay. Jamie let her take charge, steadying both of them with his sturdy arms, until he was fully seated inside of her. 

Their matching groans of pleasure vibrated off of the bathroom tiles. 

They slipped and slid, as Jamie pulled Claire’s hips down as he thrust up. Claire reached her hand down to touch herself, and Jamie stood watching, mesmerized at the way she worked her fingers over and over to stimulate her own clit. Before long she was throwing her head back, water droplets trickling down her neck and the middle of her breasts erotically as she screamed through her orgasm. 

At least it was easier to clean up after themselves in the shower, when Jamie came. Ropes and ropes of thick, hot come pumped into Claire’s petite body before gravity took ahold and it trickled down her left thigh. 

Jamie had suggested that they go for a little drive on their day out, so the two of them managed to keep their hands off each other again just enough to get dressed. Jamie ran over to his place to get a change of clothes, while Claire tried to comb out the rat’s nest that had formed at the back of her head. 

Warm, clean clothes on, Jamie and Claire made their way along the winding countryside roads. 

He drove Claire and himself around the village nearest to their cottages. Along the way he pointed out nature trails he knew, one in particular that was mainly for dog walkers and led to an old graveyard from the 1800s. He pointed out the village church, which connected to the graveyard, and still ran a Wednesday and a Sunday service. With the windows down, they drove past a couple of shops; a hairdressers, a beauty salon, a newsagents, a Chinese takeaway place and a coffee shop. Upon seeing the café, Claire made Jamie park up so she could nip in and get them both something warm to drink.

Five minutes later, with both paper cups in a tray, Claire reopened the passenger door and slid back into the seat. “Gosh, it’s getting colder out there by the minute.”

“Aye, winter’s basically here already, isn’t it? What’d ye get?” He nodded with the side of his head, as he started the car engine and put it into reverse. 

“I bought one tea and one hot chocolate… Wasn’t sure what you’d want?”

“Whichever one ye don’t want, I’m not fussed. Do ye wanna drive up to that little lake and drink them there?” 

“Yes,” Claire agreed, “That sounds lovely.” 

The car park and the lake itself was eerily quiet for a Sunday afternoon, usually it was busy with walkers, runners, cyclists, horse riders and parents with their small children feeding the ducks. The autumn wind was picking up speed, even faster and colder than it had been earlier on in the day and Jamie and Claire watched as the wind created tiny waves in the water surface. A family of bright white swans glided across the water in a single file line. 

“Did ye know that swans mate for life?” Jamie asked, turning his attention away from the lake and focusing on Claire. 

“Yeah, I remember hearing that somewhere, too.”

He hummed, and picked up his paper cup, “How’s ye hot chocolate?” 

Claire licked a drop that was rolling down the side of her cup, “It’s good, you want to try some?”

Jamie took the cup that she offered, bringing it to his mouth and grimacing as he tried her drink. “Jesus, that’s pure milk! Did they even put any chocolate powder into it?” 

Claire took the cup back with a roll of her eyes. “I like it milky, sue me… better than having pure chocolate clogging up my mouth.” 

“Ye’ve got no taste, Claire,” Jamie shook his head slowly. “That’s what hot chocolates supposed to do! The clues in its name.” 

She raised an eyebrow and defiantly took a drink of her hot ‘chocolate’. “No taste, you say? I don’t think you were saying that to me yesterday when you asked me to be your girlfriend?” 

A playful glint lit up his cornflower coloured eyes, “I didn’t ken then what I do now. If this is ye’re taste in drinks, I’m scared what other tastes ye have. Think I’m gonna have to reconsider my offer.”

“Nuh uh,” Claire clicked her tongue. “No take backsies. As Geillis would say, you’re stuck with me now.” 

Jamie looped his arm around Claire’s neck to pull her closer to him as he kissed her temple, mumbling a “wouldn’t have it any other way,” which made her smile goofily. 

As they drank the last of their drinks, Jamie suggested they go for a walk around the lake. They wrapped up warm; layered clothing, jumpers, scarves, coats and gloves and left their phones locked inside Jamie’s car so they could just enjoy nature and other another’s company. 

Round the lake they walked, hand in hand. Jamie pointing out that it would soon be dropping to below freezing temperatures and they should come back when the lake had completely iced over. 

The wind was so chilly that Claire thought her nose was going to fall off, and she told Jamie so. His answer was an unimpressed gaze and the word “southerner” uttered in her direction. 

After two laps of the water, Claire coerced Jamie into getting back into the car. She sat in the seat, shivering, while he laughed openly at her and twiddled with the car heater. Once it was blasting, and Claire could feel some semblance of her toes again, Jamie set off from the park. 

Claire watched him as he drove, the way he did it so effortlessly. Gripping her thigh with one hand and twisting the steering wheel with the other at the flick of his wrist. 

Give Me a Try by The Wombats came on over the radio, and Jamie turned up the volume before belting out the first line of lyrics. 

A feeling of elation, so massive it almost overwhelmed her, came over Claire in a wave. To be sitting here, safe and sound, with Jamie by her side. Her Jamie, who was now, singing along to the chorus, word for word. Her Jamie, who’d made her birthday weekend such a special occasion, and taken such good care of her. Her Jamie, who could be so goofy and warm hearted, but then be so serious and caring. 

He was hers and she was his, and nothing could make Claire happier than she was bathing in the moments with him. Like this one, right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks out from behind hands sheepishly* Well... what do we think? lol
> 
> I didn't realise how smutty i'd made this until i edited it and read it back. I'm strangely pleased with myself haha. 
> 
> Anyway, tell me what you thought about it all in the comments! Hope to speak to you there!
> 
> xoxo


	17. Chapter Seventeen

The rest of the month of October sped by, with Claire feeling like she was on cloud nine for most of it. 

By the time October 31st rolled around, Claire was more than ready to get rid of the Halloween festivities and begin Christmas. 

In Claire’s opinion, Halloween was all right, but it was nothing compared to the magic of the darker winter months. When she’d been younger, Claire had gotten dressed and gone trick or treating, either with Uncle Lamb or with some of her friends who lived in her street. As she’d gotten older, she’d still liked to open the door to the smaller children, complimenting them on their costume choices. But Frank had always complained about the constant knocking, opening and shutting of the front door. Other than seeing the children, Claire didn’t care for Halloween. She wasn’t the type to watch scary movies or to be chased around a cornfield by an axe wielding actor. 

Christmas, however, was a whole different ball game. She loved everything about it; spending time perusing websites and shops for the perfect gifts, wrapping the gifts up with care and attention. The food, gosh, the food. Claire was by no means the world’s best chef, but that didn’t stop her from eating her body weight in anything that looked delicious. And then there was the decorating. From being a girl, Claire had always had a real tree rather than an artificial one. She and Uncle Lamb (and Frank on one occasion) usually went together to the tree farm, spending hours searching for the perfect ones for their homes. Making a day of it by drinking copious amounts of hot chocolate and listening to Bing Crosby. 

For a brief moment, Claire wondered what Christmas would look like this year… 

“Are ye even listening to me?” Geillis’ voice broke Claire out of her train of thought. 

“What?” Claire asked. “Oh, yes. What was that last bit?” 

Geillis laughed good naturedly, “I was talking about Daniel. Remember? We matched on Tindr last week, and he asked me out on a date?” 

The light flicked on in Claire’s brain. “Oh, yes, I remember. So, how did that go?” 

Just as Geillis was finishing up filling Claire in on the gossip about her date with Daniel, Tom walked into the hospital break room to call her away. Something about a patient asking for Geillis, specifically. No words were exchanged between Tom and Claire – since the showdown in the waiting area with Jamie, Tom had taken it upon himself to not utter another word to Claire, except for quick yes or no answers. 

With only five minutes left of her break, Claire pulled out her mobile phone to see if Jamie had texted her. 

As it was Halloween night and Claire was at work, Jamie had taken up Jenny’s offer to take Wee Jamie and Maggie out trick or treating. 

Jamie had indeed texted her back, including a picture of himself and the children. In the photo, Wee Jamie smushed his cheek against his Uncle’s, wearing a pirate costume, with an orange bucket hanging off his arm. Maggie was up on Jamie’s shoulders, little fairy wings sticking out of her back and also holding a bucket ready to be filled to the brim with sweets. 

Claire quickly shot a message back to him. Telling him how cute his niece and nephew looked and wishing them a good time, before putting her phone back into her handbag and getting back to work. 

XxX

Just another hour. 

She could make just another hour at the hospital, and then she could crawl into the warm bed beside Jamie. 

Claire practically ran when she was allowed to clock out of work at half two in the morning. Geillis had also finished her shift and promised she would drop Claire off before going home herself. 

“Thank you for taking me home,” Claire said to Geillis, as the car rumbled to a stop outside of Jamie’s cottage.

“Ye’re welcome, hen. Enjoy sleeping beside ye man,” Geillis winked. 

Claire laughed, the sound loud in the silent street. “Oh I will, don’t you worry.” 

Jamie’s cottage was pitch blank inside and out, making it slightly harder for her to find his spare key. Lifting up the old flower pot beside the front door, Claire blindly stuck her hand underneath it, patting around the earth until her fingertips touched cold metal. 

Once she’d essentially broken in, she trudged up the staircase. Claire shed her outer clothes and bra on the landing, piling them up on the banister and stealing one of Jamie’s shirts that hung over it, instead. Clad in just her knickers and his large button up, Claire climbed into the empty space beside him in bed. 

She tucked herself into the crook of his body, sighing through her nose as his body heat warmed through her. Jamie’s arm tightened around her waist, as if even in his sleep he was drawn to her, pulling her in a close as possible. 

XxX

Claire woke up hours later feeling hot. Too hot. 

It didn’t take her very long for her brain to wake up and realise what was happening. 

Claire ripped back to covers and looked down. A face peered up at her from between her two spread legs. 

“What on earth are you doing?” She asked and then laughed. “Well, I mean, it’s obvious what you’re doing, but now, really?” 

Jamie resumed his task of laving wet, sloppy kisses to her inner thighs, before he answered. “Aye, now. Feel like I’ve not seen or had ye in days.” 

Now she was awake, Jamie pressed a kiss to the center of her knickers. Claire squirmed at his attention, unsure whether she was trying to get away from the teasing or press her body closer. 

Who was she kidding? Of course she was trying to get closer. 

“Mmm, fuck,” Claire whimpered as Jamie flung her knickers over his shoulder and ran the flat of his tongue up the seam of her. He lay flat on his stomach, so it was easy to him to use both thumbs and pulled her apart. 

Jamie dipped his tongue into her heat, before moving his tongue upwards to her clit and wrapping both lips around it. Claire shrieked, and gripped Jamie’s messy bedhead, as he sucked hard. 

The heat of his mouth, combined with the suction, had Claire edging towards her orgasm at a rapid pace. 

“Jamie… ugh… Jamie… I’m going…”

With a wet pop, Jamie moved away. “Are ye? I don’t remember saying ye could.” 

Chest heaving, clit pulsing, Claire gave Jamie the dirtiest look she could muster. 

He didn’t even have the decency to pretend to look bothered. Rather, he laughed loudly. “Ye’re cute when ye’re trying to look scary. But, if ye wanna scare me, ye’re gonna have to try harder, lass.” 

Claire shoved his bare shoulder, making him smile broadly at her. “Get back down there and finish what you started, Fraser.” 

“Do I at least get a please?” Jamie batted his eyelashes, teasingly. 

“Fine,” Claire huffed. “Please get back down there and finish what you started, Fraser.” 

Jamie kissed the palm of her hand sweetly, such a contrast to the way he’d devoured her cunt. 

“Only because ye asked so nicely,” He said, before diving back down to her soaking folds. 

Jamie slid two of his long fingers inside of Claire without any resistance and crooked them upwards to find the spongy part of her front wall. Instead of sucking her bud back into his mouth, Jamie used the tip of his tongue to trace figure 8’s around and over it. 

Jamie’s bedroom walls were filled with breathy moans and pants, as Claire tried to keep ahold of the present moment. Bit by bit the room faded away, replaced with blinding hot lights behind her eyelids and the presence of Jamie. Always Jamie. 

“I’m really close,” She mumbled through the pleasure fog. 

Jamie hummed against the wet center of her, sending even more spikes of pleasure shooting up Claire’s spine, like electric live wires. Her back bowed off of the soft mattress, as her orgasm tumbled through her. The death grip she had on the back of Jamie’s head meant he couldn’t really pull back or get away from her. Instead, as her body arched, Claire pressed herself closer to Jamie’s mouth. 

Claire vaguely processed the squelchy sound of Jamie lapping at her, like a cat that’d gotten the cream. With the aftershocks still coursing through her body, Claire tapped the back of Jamie’s head to get his attention. 

The sight of those blue eyes shades darker than usual, his hair sticking up every which way, and the sheen on his lips and chin were all a sight to behold. 

“Ye okay?” Jamie asked, smugly. 

All Claire could do was nod jerkily in reply. 

“Good, hands and knees, lass,” He reached underneath her body to pat her arse firmly. 

All of her bones seemed to have turned to mush after her orgasm, but Claire managed to prop herself up as Jamie had asked. Rather than hold herself up on her hands, Claire gripped onto a pillow and mushed the side of her face into it, presenting her arse up in the air. 

She sighed as she felt Jamie come up closer behind her and grip the thick flesh of her rounded hip. He kneaded her arse and then pulled his hand back, bringing it down with a sharp slap! 

Claire jolted forward at the force of it, relishing in the sting Jamie’s hand had left behind. She felt herself grow wetter by the second as he did it again and again, alternating between her left and right cheek. Surely, by now, her arse cheeks would be bright red. 

Patience wasn’t one of the traits Claire possessed, and it showed when she wiggled her arse in a silent plea for Jamie to hurry up. 

She could hear the smile in Jamie’s voice as he said, “Ye’re terrible. Ye ken the anticipation is half the fun, right?” 

A smart answer sat on the tip of her tongue, but Jamie chose that exact moment to push inside of her. A gasp tore out of her throat, at the same time Jamie groaned. 

It was a shame, Claire thought to herself briefly, that she couldn’t see Jamie’s face in this position. Sex was one of the times when she could properly read his face, without having to ask him what exactly he was thinking. But it helped, of course, that Jamie wasn’t afraid to vocalize how good and tight Claire felt wrapped around his cock. 

“Mhm fuck… that’s… you’re… deep,” She couldn’t string a full sentence together, settling, instead, for disjointed words which hopefully Jamie would understand.

After almost a month of being together, Claire was no longer afraid to be herself in the bedroom. Whatever she did, she knew Jamie would take it in his stride. She could be as loud as she wanted, as filthy with her words, as horny and needy – nothing really fazed him. Even on the days where Claire switched between climbing on top of him in a dominant posture and riding him into oblivion. Or, letting her body go pliant and submissive for his use. 

Claire felt one of Jamie’s hands tug at her bicep, pulling her away from the pillow and upwards to lean against his chest. The change in angle made Claire hiss through her teeth and grip onto his forearm, which had banded itself around her waist to keep them both from falling over. She let her head tip back, resting it against Jamie’s collarbone as he pulled out of her and thrust back inside in long, leisurely strokes. His hard chest and tight abs bounced gently against her back as they moved together fluidly. 

The white hot sensation was building in Claire again, starting right from underneath her tummy button and expanding outwards. It felt so bloody good, making it hard for her to keep her eyes open – they kept fluttering open and shut. 

Jamie’s nose nuzzled into her hairline, and Claire forced her eyes to reopen to get a glimpse of his face. 

“Ye’re extra bonny like this, Claire,” He panted, kissing her lips in a bruising manner. Something, which, was quite hard to do when you were upside down. “All flushed and wet and mine. All mine.” 

His fingertips tip toed their way down her stomach, and past the groomed thatch of hair on her bikini line, until they found her swollen clit. 

Claire wasn’t the only one who’d learnt things in their shared bedroom in the past month.

His middle and ring fingers began to work in tandem. A few well practiced, small circles around her clit were all Claire needed for her second orgasm to rip through her. Her mouth stayed open as moans intermingled with Jamie’s name spilled out unsubconsciously. There wasn’t much time for Claire to catch her breath before Jamie sped up his thrusts. Gone were the long, slow strokes, replaced with much faster paced ones. 

A combination of not being to hold herself upright any longer, and Jamie pressing his hand to her lower back to push her back down, made Claire fall face first back into the mound of soft pillows. 

“Christ, the way ye arse jiggles…” He croaked, his voice sounding hoarse. 

Claire could tell, by the way Jamie was throbbing hot inside of her and his erratic pace, that he wouldn’t last much longer. She felt him pull out of her and then a split second later, hot lashes of liquid painted themselves onto the globes of her rounded arse. They ran down the backs of her thighs as Jamie collapsed beside her with a whoosh! 

He threw his arm over his eyes and sighed contently, straightening out his legs and relaxing into the mattress. Claire turned her head to the side to look at him, with an eyebrow raised. 

“I don’t know what you’re doing getting comfy. I need your help.” 

Jamie took his arm away from his eyes to look at her with a confused expression, “Help?” 

“Yes. I’m all… all…” Claire found it easier to say filthy words when she was all caught up in the act. But afterwards? That was a completely different story. She would find herself blushing profusely at any mention of sex. 

Jamie knew this, of course. He was the one who first picked up on it and mentioned it every time the blush would begin to rise. 

“All what?” He asked, teasingly. 

“All… drippy,” Claire whispered softly. She knew Jamie had heard her from the cheeky smile working its way across his face, but he pretended as if he hadn’t just to hear her say it again. 

“Didn’t quite catch that, lass.” The laughter was apparent in the tone of his voice. 

“Yes, you did, you twat. Now, get me a towel.” 

“For what?” He couldn’t contain his laughter any longer. 

“I’m all drippy!” Claire said loudly, exasperated. “Stop laughing! It’s your bloody fault in the first place.” 

“Mm aye, but admit it, it was well worth it…” He rolled off the bed, still laughing, as Claire tried to land a well deserving slap onto his arm.

XxX

Downstairs, after they’d cleaned up, Jamie stood at the kitchen counter flicking through the stack of bills, which had been posted through his letterbox.

He could hear Claire pottering about in the bathroom upstairs. Probably applying some light makeup to hide her lack of sleep, before she started another back to back shift at the hospital. 

“Have ye got enough time for a cuppa?” He shouted up the stairs, “Or do ye want me to just put it in ye travel mug?” 

“Travel mug, please,” Claire shouted back. 

Jamie was just stirring the tea bag and the milk together, when Claire walked into his space. She had indeed applied some makeup, just a light dash of blush, mascara and that tinted lip balm she liked so much. She pressed herself into his side, and he could smell the fruitiness of her shampoo as her ponytail whipped around to sit on her shoulder. 

“Ye still tired?” Jamie ran his nose down her temple and along the edge of her jaw. Now he could smell the darker, sexier smell of her perfume that she usually applied delicately behind her ears. She smelt so good he couldn’t help himself from nibbling on the shell of her ear. 

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “but I’ll be fine. It’ll all be worth it when I get this full weekend off.” 

Jamie hummed his agreement. 

He hadn’t been planning on asking her today, but he couldn’t wait any longer. 

“Hey, about that…” He started. “I was wondering if… erm…” 

Claire swept her thumb over his bottom lip and gazed up at him. “Yes?” 

“I was wondering… if ye wanted to come to Lallybroch with me for the weekend?” 

God, his palms were unbelievably sweaty and his blood pressure had definitely spiked. 

“Why do you look like you’re going to throw up?” Claire’s eyes twinkled with something akin to mischief in them. 

“I’m shitting myself, that’s why.” 

Ellen, if nothing, had always taught him that honesty was the best policy. 

Claire giggled, and Jamie felt like anything was worth making a tit of himself for, if he got to hear Claire giggle again. 

“There’s no reason too,” Her tone had become gentle and tender, as she cupped his stubbled cheek with a soft touch. “I’d love to go with you, Jamie. Will all your family be there? Or just your parents?” 

Jamie brought his hand up, to hold the hand cupping his face, at his heart. “I’d been thinking… we could drive to Lallybroch early Saturday morning and stay over until the Sunday evening. It’ll probably be all of us. So… me, ye, Mam, Da, my sister and her entire brood. Is that alright?” 

As Claire nodded, he breathed a sigh of relief. 

“It sounds fun! Are you sure they won’t be mad at me crashing the family get together?”

“Mad at ye?” Jamie asked her incredulously. “Are ye having a laugh? They’ve all been nagging me to bring ye home since I mentioned our first date! They’ll be over the moon that ye’re coming to Lallybroch with me.” 

“Well then, it would be my pleasure to visit.”

XxX

Jamie drove Claire to work. Before driving back home, fixing himself a sandwich and settling in to make some order calls for the distillery. 

After he’d clocked off work for the day, Jamie set about preparing some vegetables for his and Claire’s dinner later on. He set his phone down beside the chopping board and dialed his Mam and Da’s home phone number. 

The dial tone rang four times before somebody picked up. “Hello?” 

“Hi, Da. Ye alright?” 

“Ah, hello, son. Aye, ye’re Mam and me are fine. Ye?” 

“Aye, I’m fine too, ta. Is Mam there? I need to ask her a question.” 

“Aye, hang on,” Brian told Jamie and then could be heard shouting for his wife. “Here ye are, lad.” 

Jamie hardly had any time to even say goodbye to his dad, before the phone was passed along to his Mam. 

“Hiya, my lad. Ye okay?” She asked. Jamie could just imagine her holding the phone, the way she had since he was a small lad. Usually, it was tucked between her ear and her shoulder as she did another task with her hands; cooking, or rolling out bread dough, or sewing, or cross-stitching. 

“Aye, fine Mam. I just wanted to let ye know, I’m planning on staying over Saturday night.” 

“Okay, lad. I’ll get ye bed cleaned and ready for ye.”

“Ta, Mam. Will ye set an extra place setting for Sunday dinner, as well please?” 

Ellen became silent on the other end of the phone line, but he could still hear her steady breathing. 

“Mam?” He asked. “Ye still there?” 

“Aye, aye, I’m still here,” She coughed out. “An extra place setting, ye say?” 

“For Claire.” 

“Is she coming then?” Jamie could hear the excitement, which she was obviously trying to dampen down, in his mother’s voice. “Is she staying over with ye on the Saturday, as well?” 

“Aye, she will be.”

Now that Jamie had confirmed Claire would be coming to meet them all, Ellen had taken it as a sign to let her excitement out. “Oh, Jamie!! God, I’m so excited to meet her!”

Jamie laughed at his Mam’s antics, “She’s excited to meet ye all too.” 

“I need to tell ye Da and ye sister! And get oot something nice to wear!”

“Mam, don’t go overboard,” Jamie chastised with a sigh. “Claire won’t care about anything like that.” 

“Don’t go overboard? Don’t go overboard? Are ye being serious, James Fraser? Ye haven’t brought a girl home in over three years, and even when ye did bring Annalise home, it was only once or twice. I’ll go as overboard as I bloody well want too! Brian? Brian?! Jamie’s bringing his girlfriend home on Saturday! I’ll need ye to tidy up the front yard, before they get here! I need to find my nice tablecloth…”

“Mam…”

“She’s not allergic to anything, is she Jamie? Is she a vegetarian? Vegan? Gluten free?” 

He always knew his Mam was crazy, but this was reaching new heights, even for her. 

Jamie shook his head, even though nobody was there. “No, Mam. Claire isn’t vegan, vegetarian or gluten free. She’ll eat just about anything, so just make ye usual Sunday dinner, won’t ye?” 

“Right, good, fine,” Ellen answered, but sounded like her head was a million miles away. “I’ll see ye both on Saturday then, my lad.” 

“See ye then, Mam. Love ye.” 

“Love ye too, son.” And with that, Ellen disconnected the call. 

Well… this weekend was certainly going to be something to remember. 

Before Ellen could reach her, Jamie sent a quick message to Jenny. 

**Jamie Fraser** to **Ian is in the doghouse [4:56pm]** Claire’s coming to Lallybroch for the weekend. I’ve already told Mam. DON’T let her go overboard ffs x 

**Ian Murray** to **Jamie’s got a proper girlfriend [5:03pm]** Jenny’s doing happy laps of the kitchen… think we’re passed going overboard mate, that train left a while ago… 

**Ian Murray** to **Jamie’s got a proper girlfriend [5:04pm]** excited to meet her tho mate. Happy for ye x 

How he was going to go about preparing Claire for the madness that was his family was beyond Jamie. But he was going to have to give it a good go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Happy Sunday!
> 
> I do hope you'll enjoy this chapter, and come chat with me in the comments or on my tumblr :)
> 
> xoxo


	18. Chapter Eighteen

“Is there anything else I’ll need?” Claire asked Jamie on Friday evening. The two of them were cooped up in Claire’s bedroom, Jamie reclining on her bed and watching as Claire packed a small bag to take to Lallybroch for the weekend. 

“Make sure ye’ve got warm pajamas. Home’s got central heating and fires in the rooms, but it can still get quite cold on a night.” 

“Got them, anything else?” 

“No, ye can borrow anything ye forget from Mam or Jenny. Now, get ye plump arse into bed. I wanna cuddle.” 

Leaving her travel bag at the bottom of the bed, Claire shuffled across until Jamie’s arms enveloped her. She rested her head on his chest, like a pillow, as he smoothed her baby hairs away from her face. 

“I’m nervous,” Claire whispered into his black wool jumper.

Jamie’s hand stuttered against the top of her head, before he composed himself and asked, “What of?” 

“What happens if they don’t like me?”

“Of course, they’ll like ye. I like ye Claire, and that will be enough for them.”

“Are you sure?” Jamie had never seen her look so unsure of herself, in all the time he’d spent with her. 

“Aye, I’m sure. You’ll be a hit with them in no time. One, because ye’re polite, bonny, hardworking, caring and… well, just yeself and two, because they’ll see how happy ye make me.” 

“You make me happy too, Jamie. Exceptionally happy.” He knew Claire’s words held nothing but the truth; he could hear the honesty in her voice. 

“That’s all I can hope for, lass.” 

XxX

With two sets of travel bags stowed away in the car boot, the petrol tank filled up with enough petrol to make the journey, the spotify music playlist ready to go, and with a variety of different snacks – Jamie and Claire were eventually ready to set off for the drive to Lallybroch. 

As Jamie was busy driving, Claire had appointed herself in charge of flicking through the music list, and keeping Jamie well fed and hydrated. 

“Can I have a drink?” He requested, not 10 minutes into the drive.

Claire unscrewed the lid of his ribena bottle and passed it over. “And a fizzy cherry?” He asked, once he’d passed back the liquid. Claire ripped open the bag of fizzy jellies, picked one out at random, and placed it onto Jamie’s waiting tongue. 

“Ta,” He mumbled through the sweet in his mouth, his lips twisting up as the sour coating hit the back of his throat. 

Claire couldn’t help laughing aloud at his squished up facial expression. 

“What?” His voice was still thick, due to the extra saliva the sour sweet had caused to build up.

“Nothing. You’re just adorable.” 

His answering smile was so wide that two dimples appeared in both of his cheeks. Adorable, indeed. 

XxX

Because Scotland was already vastly covered in lush greenery, Claire didn’t really notice when they left the city and headed more into the rural part of the isle. 

Between the two of them, they’d consumed over half the bag of sweets. And now, the sugar high was well and truly beginning to set in. 

“How did you even tell your family about me?” Claire asked as she hunted for her bottle of water. 

“I told them the first day I met ye, when I took in ye parcel, remember? That I had a new neighbour, and it went from there, really.” 

“Oh, yeah! My parcel with my new dress in it for Geillis’ birthday party. What did you think of me when you first saw me?” 

Jamie didn’t answer straight away. 

“Jamie?” Claire focused her full attention on him. “Did you hear me?” 

“Aye, I heard ye. Loud and clear…” 

“So?” She pressed. Now that he was acting weird, she really wanted to know his answer. 

“Mm… Um… that wasn’t really the first time I’d ever seen ye…” 

“What on earth do you mean?” 

Jamie cut his eyes away from the road, and to her face, for a split second. 

“Don’t hate me, okay? The first time I actually saw ye, was out of my bedroom window.” 

“Your bedroom window?” Confused, was an understatement to how Claire felt right about now. “What was I doing? Unloading my belongings, or something?” 

“Um… no.” Jamie looked sheepish as he talked, a hand itching the back of his neck, nervously. “Ye… ye were sunbathing…”

Claire’s mouth fell open. She couldn’t help it. If Uncle Lamb had been here, he would have chastised her and mentioned something about flies. But, he wasn’t and Claire couldn’t keep the shock out of her face. 

“Sun… sunbathing?” She managed to choke out. “You first saw me sunbathing?” 

“Aye… in ye little black bikini…” 

“My little…” Claire buried her face in her hands.

“I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to… It wasn’t perverted or anything… I just happened to look out the window and… there ye were.” Jamie’s incessant chatter had started up again. 

Shock and surprise morphed into laughter. Claire’s shoulder’s shook as the reality of the situation set in. God, she couldn’t breathe from laughing so hard. It was all just so ridiculous. 

“You’re…” The giggles overtook her again, and she had to try hard to compose herself. “You’re telling me, that you first saw me sunbathing, and have never mentioned it?”

“Well, it’s not exactly the best way to meet somebody, is it?” He asked. And then continued on in a sarcastic voice. “Oh, hi! I’m ye’re next door neighbour, and I’m knocking on ye’re door because I saw ye half naked out the window and thought ye fit!”

She wasn’t ever going to let him live this moment down. 

“You thought I was fit?” Claire tried to look coy in her face, but it wasn’t working very well. 

“Ye ken ye’re fit, ye don’t need me to tell ye. But, aye. I thought ye were gorgeous, sue me.” 

“So, you’ve lied to your family and told them we first met on my doorstep?” 

Jamie scoffed. “It’s not exactly lying, is it? We did meet for the first time on ye’re doorstep. I cannit go around telling them about ye in a bikini. Well, I could. But, before ye ken it, the whole church congregation – including the vicar – would ken about it. My Mam can’t keep her mouth closed, to save her life.” 

“I suppose not. But, my god, is it funny.” Claire snorted. “I can’t believe you kept it from me.” 

Jamie shot her a dirty look, before returning to attention to the curvy country road ahead of him. “Shut up. Ye tell me, what ye thought of me, when ye first laid eyes on me.” 

As he had been talking, Jamie’s neck had become redder and redder – a sign of how nervous and embarrassed he felt. It did bring a bubble of laughter up Claire’s throat, but she managed to press it back down. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Um… Honestly? I thought you were the hottest man I’d ever seen. I remember you wore this dark green t-shirt and jeans, with your hair all messy on top. It was the way you leaned over that sold it for me.” 

“The way I leaned over?” 

“Yeah. I sat on the sofa, while you looked over at my photographs, and the way your back muscles looked when you leaned down? I was a goner, then and there.” 

“Really?” 

“Mhm,” Claire nodded. 

Jamie smirked as he spoke in her direction, “Glad I wasn’t the only who was a goner from the beginning.” 

XxX

In all honesty, Claire felt sick to her stomach. A mixture of nervousness and excitement sat, like a knot, in the bottom of her stomach. 

Jamie was a family man through and through. It had been no secret; he made it quite clear, family meant everything to him. And so, because of that, Claire wanted to make a great first impression. It meant a lot to Jamie, and so it meant a lot to her too. 

But she was beyond scared to mess it all up. 

Frank had been an only child, like her, and he’d never been close to his Mother or Father. Claire had met them only on a handful of occasions, and each time they’d been fairly cold and distant to her. 

She knew deep down in her bones, it would be different with Jamie. He talked about his family and childhood constantly, always referring to somebody or a memory with such warmth in his tone… 

So deep in her own thoughts, Claire hadn’t realised Jamie had turned off the beaten track. The car was trundling down a very long driveway, with fields covering either side of it. 

Because she hadn’t grown up there, Claire wasn’t too familiar with the Scottish geography. She knew, vaguely, where the most populated cities were but not much about the obscure Highlands. And judging from the morning mist hanging in the air, Lallybroch was most definitely a part of the Highlands. On a couple of occasions, Jamie had tried to educate her about the highlands and Scottish history. Talks of long ago Clansmen - long ago, but never forgotten. Kilts and whiskey. Battles for independence against the British. And, something just so… Scottish that lived in the hearts of the people. 

They passed under a large stone archway, and for a wee moment Claire wondered who had built such a thing, and how long had it stood there? 

She turned to ask Jamie, but the sight of the stone home in front of her swallowed up the question. 

As first glance, the entire fortification looked massive. And it was massive. But only because it had, what appeared to be, a barn and a set of stables attached to the walls. The animal housings were built entirely of wood, while the house itself – just like the archway – was built of rough hewn stone. Even the steps leading up to the entryway were paved in the same manner. 

Jamie parked the car beside the barn, right beside the two other cars also sitting on the concrete. 

“Christ, it’s massive,” Claire exclaimed, craning her neck to look at the chimney breast at the top of the home. 

Now by no means was Claire unfamiliar with large, expensive houses. With her uncle being an archeologist, Claire hadn’t grown up poor – far from it, actually. And, with herself now being a high up, qualified surgeon, she was indeed able to enjoy some of the finer things of life. 

But Lallybroch appeared to be something else entirely.

Jamie snorted at Claire’s exclamation as he turned the car engine off and unbuckled his seat belt. 

Claire tsked, “Head out of the gutter, Fraser.” 

Jamie breathed out a laugh. “Aye, it is quite big. Hasn’t always looked like this, though. Lallybroch’s been passed down through the Fraser generations, ye see? It was first built in 1582, as a tower. Can ye see that bit at the back? The bit that’s taller than the rest of the house?”

Claire nodded as she directed her gaze to follow Jamie’s pointing finger. 

“That’s where they’d keep look out. For the English mainly, but also for any other enemy or invading persons. Generations of Frasers have built and rebuilt on this plot of land until ye see what stands before ye.” 

“So, who inherits it next?” 

“Technically, my sister does,” Jamie said. “She’s older than me, so logically it would fall to her. But, she’s never mentioned wanting it and neither has Ian. If they didn’t want it, it would be mine.” 

“And would you want it?” 

“Aye, I think I would,” Jamie said, so quietly Claire had to strain her ears to hear him. 

“Would it not be lonely?” She pressed.

The heat of Jamie’s eyes on her side profile made Claire look at him head on. 

“Why would it be lonely when I have ye?” 

There wasn’t any other answer Claire could give, other than a “Yes, you do,” and a quick, but firm kiss pressed to his lips over the gearstick. 

From the moment Claire opened the car door and stepped out in the fresh air, she could tell something magical was afoot about Lallybroch. The air was colder, crisper, and fresher here – another sign they were higher up than she had originally thought. It didn’t matter that she had followed Jamie’s advice of wrapping up warm. Even standing with black leggings on, thermals, a long sleeved cream top, boots, and a scarf – she could still feel the bite in the air. 

The wind blew, carrying a smell of animal with it, but the creatures made no sound. Just pure, blissful silence surrounded them. No constant hum of traffic passing by, no drone of helicopters of airplanes flying overhead. Just the sound of Jamie’s crunching feet on the gravel as he unloaded their baggage from the boot of the car, and the tweet of a bird perched high up in the branch of a bare tree. 

“Come on, ye must be freezing,” Jamie walked around the car to stand at her side with travel bags in each of his hands. “Mam should have some of the fires burning. We can get wrapped up warm again, after lunch, and have a walk around. If ye fancy it?” 

“That would be lovely.” 

Jamie ascended the three stone front steps first and pushed open the front door, shouting a “Hello?” as he held the door open for her. 

The home was warm from the moment Claire stepped inside. 

The hallway was already covered in coats (both adults and children’s), scarves, and shoes of all different sizes. A grand staircase, with a huge, shiny bannister led up from the hallway to the first floor. The sound of voices and the high pitched scream of a child could be heard coming from one of the two rooms branching off of the entryway. 

Jamie placed their luggage, neatly, at the bottom of the stairs and shrugged off his light jacket. He placed it on top of the already heavy laden coat stand, which Claire was sure was about to topple over at any given second. With her back to the doorways, Claire yanked her scarf off around her neck and looped it over Jamie’s coat. 

She was in the process of toeing off her winter boots, when a Scottish voice spoke out, “Jamie, my lad!”

A red haired woman stood in front of Jamie. She wore a light blue blouse, tucked inside a pair of pressed, white dress pants and topped off with a pair of black sock slippers. She was tall for a woman, reaching Jamie’s shoulder at her full height. 

“Hiya, Mam,” Jamie said, stepping into his Mam’s open arms. Ellen smoothed his hair back away from his forehead, like she would a child. Hair, which was an exact colour replica of her own. Before pecking him on the cheek. 

“Hello, son. How was the drive?” 

Claire watched as Jamie smiled down at his mother. “It was alright, few people on the road but it got quiet when we got to the old church.” 

“Ah, good.” 

Ellen unravelled her arms from around Jamie’s waist and turned to where Claire stood. “And, ye must be Claire.” 

She felt Jamie’s arm snake around her side, a comforting presence, as she answered, “Yes, hi. Nice to meet you.” 

Before Claire had time to decide whether to stick her hand out or not, Ellen had already wrapped her up in a hug similar to the one she gave her son. “It’s so lovely to meet ye, lass. We’ve all been waiting a while for Jamie to bring ye home.” 

“Mam, seriously…” 

“What?” Ellen looked up at her son. “We have! But, I can see why he’s kept ye away for so long. Look how bonny ye are!” 

Claire smiled, “Thank you. So are you, I can certainly see where Jamie gets his hair from.” 

Ellen plucked at one of the red strands sitting on her shoulders and laughed. “Aye, he got the hair from me. Red, like the devil, they say. And his sister, Jenny, she got her Da’s brown hair…” 

“Uncle Jamie! Uncle Jamie!” A small boy ran into the entryway from the first door on the left and began pulling on his Uncle’s free hand dangling by his side. 

“Hiya, lad,” Jamie said, swinging his nephew up into his arms. 

“Will ye come play football with me?” Wee Jamie babbled without any pretense. 

“After lunch, Wee Jamie.” Ellen clucked her tongue at her oldest grandchild. 

Jamie agreed with his Mam, “Ye heard ye Grannie, maybe after lunch.” 

Wee Jamie didn’t look too convinced by that. 

“Mam said ye were bringing ye girlfriend… Is this her?” The young boy’s full attention had moved from football to the new visitor in the house. 

“Where’s ye manners, lad?” Jamie asked, setting the boy back onto the ground. “Say hello to Claire.” 

Wee Jamie stood in front of her, clothes a bit rumpled and brunette locks all over the place. He must have looked like his father, Claire deducted, because there wasn’t anything of either Ellen or Jamie in him. Except for the eyes. He had those catlike, blue Fraser eyes, all right.

“Are ye my Uncle Jamie’s girlfriend?” 

Jamie huffed out a laugh, muttering something like sounded like, “God, this kid,” under his breath. 

Claire bent down to Wee Jamie’s height as she introduced herself. “Yes, that’s me. I’m Claire, it’s nice to meet you.” 

The small lad blinked once, and then twice, before turning to his grandmother and whispering very loudly, “She’s English.”

“Get away with ye,” Ellen replied, shaking her head. “We bloody well ken she’s English. Don’t be so rude. Apologise, now.” 

“Sorry… Auntie Claire.” 

Ellen nodded. “Good enough, Wee Jamie. Come on then, ye two, let’s introduce Claire to everyone else before lunch.” 

Jamie threaded his fingers through Claire’s and sent her a blinding smile as they followed Ellen and Wee Jamie into the living room area. 

Claire was extremely thankful for the warmth in the room, as she stepped over the threshold after Jamie. The room was bright with the pale covered walls, blue trim and the large windows letting daylight in. Two blue plush sofas and a padded chair sat in the center of the room, occupied by three other adults. Another small child, this time a little brunette girl, sat on the rug in front of the sofas, playing with a toy that resembled Lego. The source of the heat came from a large, roaring fire sat crackling away in its hearth, sending orange embers flying up as it charred the wood. The mantel piece, coffee tables and the walls were covered in knickknacks and memories, documenting a life very well lived and enjoyed. 

Further in the room, Claire could see a dining room table also apart of the open plan living area. It was already set, a tablecloth, place settings and cutlery all ready for people to sit down at and tuck in to their food. 

Wee Jamie joined his sister on the floor, while the three remaining adults stopped their conversation mid flow to focus on Claire and Jamie. 

Just like in the entryway, Claire stood back as Jamie greeted his family. Ellen had disappeared, probably to check on the food in the kitchen, and Claire was happy to watch Jamie, who had a grin on his face as he patted his Father on his back. A small tug on the bottom hem of her leggings made Claire look down to see a small head looking up quizzically at her. 

From the photo on Halloween Jamie had sent her; Claire knew this little face to be Maggie, his niece and the youngest member of the Fraser family. Unlike her older brother, Maggie’s hair sat neatly, hanging straight down her back and pinned back with two little star clips. She wore a tiny purple dress with white tights and a black cardigan over the top to keep her warm. In one hand sat a single piece of Lego, and the other small, pudgy hand let go of tugging on Claire’s leggings. Settling for patting her thigh gently to grab her attention instead.

Similar to when she’d introduced herself to Wee Jamie, Claire bent down to be more on Maggie’s eye level. “Hello there, little one. I’m Claire.” 

Maggie dropped the toy in her hand to reach out and touch a loose strand of Claire’s curly hair. As she was only two, Claire had been expecting her to yank forcibly, but was pleasantly surprised when the child’s fingers grazed the curls. Then, she wrapped her tiny hand around Claire’s thumb, steadying herself as she swayed a little on her wobbly legs. 

“Mm. Pretty,” Maggie hummed, never taking her eyes off of Claire’s face. 

Claire laughed softly, and couldn’t help herself from touching Maggie’s baby soft looking chubby cheeks. “Thank you. I like your dress.” 

So entranced with talking to Maggie, Claire hadn’t realised Jamie had finished greeting his family and the four of them stood in a semi circle, in silence, watching she and Maggie talk to each other. Claire sought Jamie’s eyes, to reassure herself with a familiar presence. She found them already watching her with a soft look about his face. 

She latched onto Jamie’s arm to pull herself back up to her full standing height, as Jamie introduced her. “Everybody, this is Claire.” 

“It’s lovely to meet you all.” 

An elderly gentleman nodded to her first. He was tall, with the famous Fraser eyes, Jamie’s straight nose and still a thick head of chestnut hair. “Nice to finally meet ye, lass. Welcome to Lallybroch. Ye can call me Brian. Ye get all warmed up and settled in and I’ll go help Ellen make a cup of tea for us all.”

Before Claire could thank him for welcoming her, she was engulfed into another hug. 

“Jesus, Jenny. Let her breath,” Jamie said, as his sister squeezed Claire tight. 

Jenny kept her hands on the upper portion of Claire’s arms, as she drew back from the hug and stared Claire right in the face with a beaming smile upon her lips. Although Ellen had been correct, Jenny had inherited her Father’s hair colour; she hadn’t inherited her height from either side of her parents. She was a tiny thing, maybe only around 5’2 or 5’3, and that was only accentuated by standing next to another tall man, who could only be her husband Ian. 

“I can’t tell ye how excited I am to meet ye, Claire. I’ve been pestering Jamie for ages now to bring ye here…”

“Aye, pestering sounds about right,” Jamie agreed.

Jenny gave her younger brother a dirty look. “Shut it, ye. Anyway, I’m Janet, but ye can call me Jenny. And this,” she gestured to her left, “is my husband, Ian. And ye’ve already met Wee Jamie and Maggie.” 

Jenny’s smile was infectious, and Claire found the nerves she had felt on the drive here, had given away to giddiness. 

“Hi, Claire,” Ian spoke up. “It’s nice to… Maggie! No! Do not put that in ye mouth!”

“Ah, back at that stage are we?” Jamie asked his sister, staring down as Ian attempted to pry the Lego part out of Maggie’s grip. 

“Aye,” Jenny sighed. “Remember when Wee Jamie put that bar of soap in his mouth and blew out a bubble? Didn’t think Maggie was going to be that bad, but she’s heading in the same direction, I tell ye.” 

“Well, they’re very pretty children,” Claire said, and then laughed. “That makes it worse, doesn’t it? When they look all cute, like butter wouldn’t melt, and then they do something naughty.” 

“Aye, definitely,” Ian agreed, having finally won the battle with Maggie. He’d substituted the Lego piece for a white feather, which she seemed content enough to mess about with. 

“Ye were evil as a child,” Jenny nodded towards Jamie. “Ye used to cause havoc and then blame everything on poor Ian here, remember?”

Jamie scoffed, “Excuse me? It was ye who got me in trouble in the first place, Janet. Used to bully me into letting her play with us and if I said no, she’d scream ‘Da!’ for bloody murder.” 

Jenny looked to her husband for support. “Did I ever do that, Ian?” 

He peered down at his wife, before nodding, “Aye, ye did. Does the deer tracking fiasco mean nothing to ye? Heathens, my children, Claire. They certainly don’t get it from me, so it’s gotta be from this side of the family. Guess they don’t really stand a chance, when the Devil’s hair runs in the family… Were ye a well behaved child, Claire?” 

“Yes, of course I was,” She answered and then winked dramatically to a chorus of laugher, “Like butter wouldn’t melt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I do hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> I've had to split these Lallybroch scenes into multiple chapters because once i started writing about the Fraser/Murray family i just couldn't stop myself. So strap yourself in for more Lallybroch to come :)
> 
> We've had more bad news tonight in England about Lockdown and it's still unclear whether i will be able to spend Christmas with my family, but i'm holding out hope. I do hope you all are doing well and are staying safe. Hope to speak to you all in the comments or on tumblr!


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Ellen came bustling back into the living room area, wearing an apron over her clothes and bringing with her the smell of the kitchen. 

“Lunch’s almost ready, if ye’s wanna sit at the table. Claire, sweetheart, I’ve made tomato soup and cheese sandwiches, is that all right? I can whip ye up something else up if not, it won’t be a problem.”

Claire held onto Ellen’s forearm to stop her flapping. “No, no, silly, don’t do that. I’m really not a picky eater; in fact I eat pretty much everything. Tomato soup and cheese sandwiches sounds delicious.” 

She physically saw Ellen breath out a sigh of relief. 

Chairs at the dining room table were already being filled by the time Claire reached it. The chair at the head of the table had been left empty, probably for Ellen. Wee Maggie had been strapped into her high chair on the right side of Ellen’s chair with her Mother beside her. The chair directly in front of Jenny, and to the left of Ellen, had been left bare. To Jenny’s right, sat Ian, and then, on his own little chair, Wee Jamie. Jamie sat next to the only chair unaccompanied, with Ian in front of him. And, lastly, Brian sat at the foot of the table cleaning his reading glasses with his napkin. 

“Sit here, lass.” Jamie patted the back of the empty chair. Claire sat down and tucked herself in properly, just as Jamie slung his arm behind the back of her chair and pressed a soft kiss to her temple. 

“Ye okay?” He asked quietly, his question hidden in the sound of Maggie shrieking as Jenny tried to stop her daughter from throwing her sippy cup over the side of her high chair. 

Claire squeezed Jamie’s hand, which rested on his thigh. “Never better,” She answered. 

Not a second too soon had they all gotten settled, when Ellen came around the corner with a mound of cheese sandwiches piled high on top of a shining silver platter. Next, with her oven mitts on either side of it so as to not burn her hands, she brought in a pot of homemade soup. She set it down in the center of the table, away from Wee Jamie’s small, reaching hands, and grabbed her ladle. Claire’s bowl was the first one she picked up, and when Claire protested, Ellen shot her down. 

“I say ye go first, Claire. So, ye go first. No arguments about it.” 

Once a few ladlefuls of soup had been poured into everybody’s bowls, they were allowed the dig in. You could tell the soup had been homemade; it had that exquisite taste you only get when something’s been made in your own kitchen, and not bought it. The liquid was the perfect temperature, just enough that you could see the steam coming off it, but not enough to burn your insides out. The cheese sandwiches were just as good, golden and slightly crispy on the outside with the right amount of ooey gooey cheese in the middle. 

“So, Claire,” Ian said, after a few minutes of quiet as everybody dug into lunch. “What made ye move up to our part of the world?” 

Claire used her napkin sitting on her lap, to wipe any soup or cheese off of her mouth, before she answered. “I moved up here for work, actually.”

“Where did ye live before?” Jenny asked, giving Maggie a wedge of cheese to stick in her mouth. 

“I lived in Oxfordshire, about an hour or so outside of London.”

“Big move to make for work,” Ellen joined in on the conversation, “What do ye do?” 

“I’m a surgeon, down at the local hospital.” 

“That’s amazing, lass,” Brian smiled at her, showing pearly white, straight teeth. “Good for ye.” 

“Thank you,” Claire soaked up the compliment like a sponge. “So, yes, I did move pretty far away, but it’s worth it. I love my job, always have done.” 

“Do ye’re Mammy and Daddy not miss ye? Because ye live so far away from them?” Wee Jamie asked all childlike innocence, with a piece of bread hanging out of his mouth. 

It would have been a simple, easy to answer question for a lot of people. Just something harmless and throwaway. But Claire did feel her heart sink, as it always did, when she thought about how she would answer the small child. 

Jamie stiffened beside her. “Claire, ye don’t…”

She gave Jamie a small, hesitant smile and took a deep breath to keep the tears at bay. The words never got any easier to say. 

“My Mummy and Daddy aren’t with me… They…they live in Heaven.” 

“Like with the angels?” 

Claire nodded. “Yes, exactly. With the angels.” 

The words sat heavy in the room, like dark grey clouds full of rainwater. Jamie squeezed her upper thigh as a silent sign of comfort. Telling her through his body language, he was there – sitting steady beside her, like always. 

Ellen placed her hand over Claire’s resting beside her water glass. “I’m really sorry for ye’re loss, sweetheart.” 

Clearing the lump sitting at the bottom of her throat with a quick sip of water, Claire was able to talk again. “Thank you. They passed away a long time ago, when I was just a young girl, but…” 

“Still hurts?” 

“Yes, but I shouldn’t complain. I wasn’t completely alone. My Uncle took me in after they passed, when I was 7. I’m an only child, so it’s always just been us two. We’ve been as thick as thieves ever since I was little.” 

“Well, I’m glad ye had someone, Claire. And now ye’ve got us as well.” 

Jamie must have sensed how choked up Ellen’s comment had made Claire, for he brushed some of hair off of her collarbone and then brushed his thumb over her neck soothingly. 

Claire pressed her lips together tightly to stop her tear ducts from burning anymore. “Thank you. Hearing that means more to me than you’ll ever know.” 

Ellen just patted her hand again and sent a special smile Claire’s way. 

She was eternally grateful for Jenny, who picked up on how she was feeling and changed the subject to something she loved to talk about. “So, did ye always ken ye wanted to be a surgeon?”

Claire spent the rest of the lunch hour devouring her soup and telling stories from childhood about travelling to far fetched countries with her Uncle Lamb. The heat of the meal, plus the fire, had warmed her up right through her bones, almost a little too much, if anything. 

As she sat at the table, an empty bowl in front of her, Claire let out a deep breath she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding in. Jamie had been completely right, there hadn’t been anything to worry about. His family had been lovely and welcoming. 

Just like him. 

For the first time since Jamie had suggested the idea, Claire had become excited at the prospect of spending the rest of her weekend off surrounded by the Fraser family. But she was also rather excited at being able to spend some quality one on one time with Jamie. His work at the whiskey distillery had picked up on orders, with it drawing closer and closer to the Christmas season each day. And her work at the hospital had also become busier – more and more individuals coming in with symptoms of the flu, injuries because of black ice, and soon it would be injuries caused by attempting to put up the Christmas lights. 

She and Jamie had been like passing ships in the nights, with her on day shifts two weeks a month and then on night shifts two weeks a month. 

Now, with this wonderful weekend off, they’d be able to bathe in one another’s company once again. And so, when Jamie offered to take her on a wander around the Lallybroch property, Claire jumped at the chance with no heed of how icy cold it would be outside. 

“Do you think I’ll be warm enough?” She asked, as the two of them stood back in the entryway layering up for the walk. 

After zipping up his fleece lined coat, Jamie looked her over. The scrunch of his nose was her answer. “Did ye bring another jumper with ye?” 

Claire shook her head. “No, I didn’t. I’ve got something to wear in case I get cold in bed, but I still don’t think that will be warm enough to go walking in. Not when it’s as cold as it.” 

Jamie looped his tartan scarf around his neck. “Stay here. I’ll go ask Jenny or Mam if they have something ye can borrow.” 

She was only left alone for a millisecond before Jamie came back, this time with Ellen in tow. 

“Come upstairs with me, Claire,” Ellen said, start up the grand staircase. “I think ye might be a wee too tall to borrow something of Jenny’s, so ye can have something of mine. Let’s see what we can find.” 

Jamie stayed downstairs, so Claire ascended the stairs behind Ellen, by herself. The stairs themselves were covered in a dark fabric, to stop you from slipping down them. 

The wall on the right hand side of the stairs was covered in even more photo frames – from the bottom step, all the way up to the landing. Claire stopped halfway up the stairs, as she spotted a picture of what could only be Jenny’s wedding day, taken with an old, ivy covered church in the background. The whole Fraser family stood, smiling, on the glossy paper – minus Wee Jamie and Maggie, of course, for they hadn’t been born yet. Jenny stood front and center, wearing the most beautiful pure white dress. It fell all the way to the grassy floor, with bell capped sleeves and lace running through its entirety. Her makeup had been done to enhance her naturally delicate, small, pixish features. The only jewellery Jenny appeared to be wearing was her new sparking wedding band, a pair of pearl earrings and a small, diamond tiara sitting on the crown of her head. With a simple, sheer veil running down from the top of her head to probably somewhere around the middle of her back, enhancing the elegant updo of her brunette hair. Her wedding day must have taken place sometime in one of the colder months, because she wore a tartan shawl wrapped in the crook of her arms to keep herself warm. The only thing Jenny held in her hands was her bunch of wedding flowers. They, like the rest of her outfit, were beautifully simple – a few red and white roses, with a spring of Scottish thistle thrown into the middle. 

Ian stood on Jenny’s left hand side, smiling broadly as the photographer snapped the memory. He had one of his arms wrapped around his new wife’s shoulders, both keeping her warm and also pulling her closer. He wore proper Scottish attire, a starch white button up, a black suit jacket thrown over the top of it, and a tartan kilt covering the lower half of his body. 

The other two men in the picture, Brian and Jamie, also wore kilts. Theirs with a different colour, compared to Ian’s, running through their tartan – a light greyish blue colour that matched the soft fabric around Jenny’s shoulders. Ellen completed the family photo, standing on her daughter’s right hand side. As Mother of the bride, she wore a light baby blue bardot dress reaching her knees, with a matching fascinator perched onto of her voluminous, rich red waves. 

Noticing Claire had stopped halfway up the stairs, Ellen stood only one step above her son’s new girlfriend. She followed Claire’s line of eyesight to the photo showcasing Jenny and Ian’s special day. 

“Och, it was a lovely day that.” 

Claire turned her head at the sound of Ellen’s voice standing beside her and nodded, “It certainly looks it.”

“Aye, lovely. But freezing. Middle of March, it was, and thank God the snow had cleared it’s self away otherwise I think our Jenny would have had a fit.” 

“She looks radiant. You all do.” 

Ellen hummed in agreed, lost in the memory of the wedding day. “See that tiara she’s wearing?” 

“Yes?” Claire answered. 

“That’s been passed through the generations, on the Mackenzie side, for years upon years now. It was given to me when I got married to my Brian… well, given is a bit of a strong word. I stole it, really. See, I come from a family full of brothers, and none of my brothers liked the idea of Brian and I courting. They weren’t so keen on him, but I was, and their opinions didn’t matter one dot to me. So when Brian proposed, I said yes and two days later we eloped. Every woman on the Mackenzie side had worn the tiara, I’d seen photos of my grandmother wearing it, and then my own mother – I wanted to carry on the tradition. And, I did. I snuck it out of my family home and got married in it. When the time came and Jenny was born, I passed it down to her… I always had in my head that my son’s future wife would also wear it on her special day… that, and the pearls.” 

Just like her son; when Ellen’s gaze fell upon you, you were helpless to looking her right back in the eye. 

“The pearls?” Claire asked, feeling Ellen’s stare warming her side profile. 

“Aye, the pearls. I got them as a wedding present from a family friend, Jenny and Jamie’s godfather, Murtaugh, actually. He bought me a two part set - a pair of pearl earrings and a pearl necklace to match. I decided to gift those earrings to Jenny for her wedding day as her something old and something borrowed. I’ve kept the necklace to give to Jamie’s future wife to wear as her something old and something borrowed.” 

Claire stayed silent for a beat as she thought on the topic of conversation Ellen had picked, and then settled on saying, “That’s such a thoughtful idea.” 

Ellen smiled. A smile, which was a tad bit too knowing for Claire’s liking. 

“Come a bit further up,” Ellen suggested, taking a relaxed hold on Claire’s arm. “There are some more pictures up here that I think ye’ll like.” 

These pictures in question were placed right at the top of the stairs, just before you turned down a corridor filled with closed doors. The photos held an equal amount of both Jenny and Jamie in them, the two children a lot younger than the ones on the stairs. 

A tiny toddler Jamie in the bath - with a shallow amount of water with bubbles surrounding him and his red hair sticking up in a faux Mohawk. The smile on his face, wide with a bottom tooth missing. Another one showed him and Jenny, and this one in particular made a giggle erupt out of Claire’s mouth. In it, Jenny held her younger brother in a headlock, probably for stealing the Barbie doll he visibly gripped in his hand. But instead of fighting her back or shouting, whoever had snapped the picture, had captured Jamie with a cheeky grin on his face. Even at that age, his eyes seemed to sparkle with mischief, as if he knew exactly what tormenting his older sister would result in. 

“He’ll hate that I’m showing ye these,” Ellen said with a hint of laughter in her voice, as the two women stood staring at a photo of Jamie’s bare bottom as he played in a kiddy paddling pool. 

Claire couldn’t wipe the ever widening smile off her face if she tried. “You couldn’t help it, these are too good to pass up.”

“If he had to pick, I’d probably guess this one would be his favourite,” Ellen pointed to a frame hung up on the wall by itself. 

Unlike most of the other photos, this one contained just Jamie by himself at around age 15, standing front and center. He wore what appeared to be a blue and white football strip with pure white knee high socks and cleated black footballs boots upon his feet. In either hand he held a certificate and some sort of golden trophy. His hair was longer than Claire had ever seen it, with a fringe flopping over his forehead and down to his eyebrows. Jamie had that gangliness of every teenager growing into his height and weight, legs and arms just a little bit too long. Even at 15, Claire could see a hint of the Jamie she knew now. He’d been handsome, even as a teenage boy. 

“He was ecstatic that day,” Ellen remarked. “He’d become captain of his football team for the whole year. Every Sunday when I’d make the two of them clean their rooms, I’d check in and find him polishing that trophy until it shone like pennies.” 

Claire reached out to trace his floppy fringe with her fingertip. “Does he still have it?” She asked.

“Och aye, it still sits in his room, his pride and joy. The last time he stayed over, I caught him shining it with the hem of his t-shirt. Bless his heart.”

Claire could hear the love Ellen had for all her family. The football trophy might have been Jamie’s pride and joy, but it was clear her two children were Ellen’s.

“We’d better get ye something to wear, lass. Otherwise, Jamie will be coming up to find out what’s taking so long. Not that I would tell him, he kens better. What goes on between two women is their own business. And he’d get a whack on the arm if he, or any of the other men, tried to pry. Us girls, we’ve got to stick together, Claire.” 

In the main bedroom, Ellen ruffled through her drawers and wardrobe while Claire patted down her hair in the mirror. 

“Here, try this one,” Jamie’s Mam held up a dark purple jumper with a hood and two pockets. “It’s a thermal, so it should keep ye warm without feeling too bulky underneath ye coat.” 

Claire took the thermal jumper from Ellen’s outstretched hand and pushed the jumper over her head and down her torso. 

Ellen clapped her hands together. “Perfect fit! Do ye need anything else? Another scarf? Gloves? A…”

“Mam!” Jamie could be heard shouting from the bottom of the stairs. “Have ye kidnapped Claire and gone on the walk without me? Or, are ye just too busy nattering her ear off?”

“Ye shut ye mouth, ye impatient sod!” Ellen hollered back. “We’ll be done, when we’re done!” Then turned back to Claire. “Right, sweetheart, are ye sure ye don’t need anything else?” 

“Maybe something to cover my ears?” Claire suggested. “A hat or a headband to keep the cold from giving me earache?” 

Another quick dig about, Ellen presented to Claire a black headband with a flourish. “There ye go, keep ye warm and toasty. Go out for a nice walk about with our Jamie, and then ye can have a warm bath when ye get in.”

“Thank you, for letting me borrow some stuff. I didn’t dream it would be this cold. Once a southerner, always a southerner, I guess.” 

Ellen chuckled at that and then winked. “Don’t ye worry. We’ve got time to make a Scottish lass of ye yet.” 

XxX

With the proper attire on, Claire and Jamie had waved goodbye to the family, staying in the warmth of the Lallybroch house and set off into the cold. From the second they’d stepped out of the door and across the courtyard, Jamie had kept a hold of Claire’s glove wrapped hand. 

He led them behind the stables, and up the hill, following a path of well trodden grass between two different fields. Jamie kept quiet, so Claire decided she would too. Focusing in on her unfamiliar, but oh so pretty surroundings, instead of talking. She wasn’t surprised about Jamie staying tight lipped. Since they’d made it official, they’d been spending all of their time, including weekends, together. Meaning, other than Halloween, Jamie hadn’t been back home in quite a while. Claire could recall when she’d visited Uncle Lamb down in Oxfordshire. It had been lovely to see him and talk to him, but it had also been lovely to just sit in silence and take in all the details of her childhood home that she had missed. Surely, Jamie was doing the same thing right now. 

Up and up this hill they climbed, passing a flock of sheep in one field and a herd of cows grazing on the grass in another. It felt like they’d been climbing for an age, and a dull straining ache had started in the back of Claire’s hamstrings – when Jamie piped up for the first time. 

“It shouldn’t be much further, just to wear that elm tree grows. Are ye legs hurting?” 

Claire looked at Jamie with disbelief etched on her glass face. “How the hell did you know that?” 

“Ye slowed down,” Jamie laughed. “Sure ye don’t need a piggyback?” 

Claire gave his shoulder a shove, making him laugh even harder as he lost his footing and almost fell over. “Utter another word, and I’ll kick your arse, Fraser. Now, get up there and show me what were here for.” 

Neither of them said anything else as they continued up the steep incline. Even if Claire had wanted to say anything, she wouldn’t have been able to. She’d always prided herself on being quite fit and healthy, what with standing and walking all day at the hospital. She didn’t eat extremely unhealthy, taking care to get in her fruits, vegetables and vitamins in daily. But she also didn’t deny herself that slice of cake, if she fancied it. This Scottish hill (or more like a mountain it felt) however, was thoroughly kicking her arse; let a known Jamie’s. 

Jamie reached the top first, only because he knew the way – it totally had nothing to do with the stitch taking up place in Claire’s side. He sat on a wooden bench, in front of the mouth of a natural cave. 

“Ye all right there?” Jamie asked as she sat down with a sigh. Her breathing was audible to the both of them, as she tried to get her heart rate to calm down. 

“Will be, yeah,” She wheezed out. 

The view from the bench was, simply put, specular – unlike anything she had ever seen. The land seemed to carry on in every direction for miles, a never ending landscape. 

“Peaceful, isn’t it?” Jamie’s knack of reading exactly what she was thinking, never failed to surprise her. 

Claire bobbed her ‘yes’ in answer, her mind too busy with trying to take in everything she was seeing. In fact, the whole time she’d been at Lallybroch, all five of her senses had been in overdrive. There’d just been so much to see and hear and smell and touch and taste. Just so much to take in all at once. 

“It’s my thinking point, this. Always has been. My Da didn’t build the bench till I was a little older, so I’d sit in the cave instead and think. I’d take a picnic blanket and a sandwich or two and spend hours and hours up here. Doing homework, or watching the sunset. Watching the animals wander about and thinking how easy their lives must be to not have the constant pressure of our face paced world.” 

Claire hummed, digesting quietly another piece of Jamie’s soul that he had just bared to her. 

She tipped her head back to look at the sky. It was mottled, blue streaked with grey clouds. From the bench they occupied, it felt like she could reach out her hand and tease the clouds with the tips of her fingers. It would probably be cold, full to the brim of water droplets and an almost light, fluffy candy floss texture. 

This far up in the highlands, Claire could say she felt weightless. No longer full of stress or anxiety. 

The stone house that made up the heart of Lallybroch, seemed miniscule in comparison to where she and Jamie sat huddled together. He’d slung his arm over her scarf covered shoulders and cuddled her in to his side. Somewhere, which was fast becoming her favourite spot, if it wasn’t already. Every patch of his skin, except for his face, had been covered up to ward out the chill. So she settled for laying her head on his shoulder, instead of tucking her nose into his neck as she usually did. 

“Do you think it’ll snow soon?” Claire asked, peering through her eyelashes at her boyfriend. 

Absently mindedly, he placed a kiss between her two eyebrows before answering. “Aye, it should do. Ye can tell when the sky looks like grey and heavy; means the snow isn’t far off. We usually get snow earlier than most people, what with being so high up and all.” 

Claire looked around at the green fields one last time, imagining the way it must look when flurries of snow descended. “I can’t wait to see this place in the winter. I bet it’s just a beautiful bright white canvas.” 

“Aye,” Jamie nodded. “It’s bonny, all right. So, if ye wanna come back, I take it ye’re having a nice time?” 

Claire could hear the vulnerability in his voice as he asked her that question. She moved her head from his shoulder to look into his face properly. 

“I love it here, Jamie. Honestly. Thank you for bringing me here, I don’t ever think I want to leave. We could just quit our jobs and milk cows for a living.” 

“Ye’ll be bored with milking cows after the first couple, I promise ye that,” Jamie chuckled. “But, I’m glad ye like it. I had a feeling ye would. And everybody adores ye already, I can just tell.” 

“Really?” 

“Aye, Mam especially. Ye two seemed to be getting on like a house on fire when ye both went upstairs. What took ye so long, anyway?” 

Claire bit her lip to contain her giggles as the image of his bare bottom popped back into her mind. 

Jamie shifted on the bench until his knees bumped into hers and then nipped at the sharp line of her jaw. “What’s that face for?” 

“Nothing,” Claire cleared her throat. “We were just… um… looking at some photos on the stairway.” 

“Please don’t say the baby photos,” He groaned, hiding his expression away from her.

“Mm, yes, the baby ones indeed,” Claire giggled with mischief. “You and your little bare bottom were always cute.”

“Ye stop talking right now, Beauchamp, otherwise I’ll put ye over my knee and put ye’re bare bottom on display by punishing ye.” He was trying to be serious, but his façade was falling as laughter coloured his voice. “Don’t think I won’t just because anybody could look up and see us.”

Claire squirmed on her bum, further into his side. Imagining the scene he had painted before her. How cold her arse cheeks would be when they were met with the fresh air, but how fast Jamie would warm them up again with the smack of his palm. Warm, until they were stinging and red and had a hand print shape on…

Jamie gripped her hip to stop her squirming so much that she fell off of the seat. “I can feel ye moving about, so it’s not really a punishment, if ye’re thinking about how much ye want me to smack ye glorious arse.” 

“Later, perhaps then.”

Jamie shook his head and rolled his eyes jokingly. “What on earth am I going to do with ye, Claire? Did ye see any other photos when ye went walk about?” 

“The picture of Jenny’s wedding. She looked gorgeous in her dress.” 

“Och, aye, a good day that. I’d started drinking from the moment I opened my eyes, so I only really remember the service. After that, I blacked out. Mam didn’t speak to me for three days.” 

“Sounds about right,” Claire joined in on his laughter. “Thought you looked a bit glassy eyed in the family photo, guess I was right. I didn’t get to ask your Mum, but I was wondering why you and your Dad wore a different coloured kilt compared to Ian’s. What’s that all about?” 

“There’s different types of tartan depending on ye’re family and, in the olden days, for ye different clan. We’re the Frasers so we wear one with a bit of blue running through it, compared to Ian, who was wearing the Murray tartan colours.” 

“Oh, that makes sense. But I’ve never seen you wear a kilt, is it just a special occasion thing?”

“Aye,” Jamie nodded. “Birthdays, Christenings, Weddings, Funerals. That sort of thing.” 

“Well, I’ll have to stay around long enough to see you in one, won’t I?” 

“Aye ye will, lass. If my family and I had our way, ye’d be staying forever…” 

“I might do just that,” Claire answered honestly, giving him the side eye. “It feels silly, but it feels like I… I dunno, like, I belong here. And I’ve not felt like that for a long time.” 

“That’s because ye do belong here, with me and…” 

“What?” Claire asked, noticing Jamie had stopped midsentence. “And, what?” 

Rather than saying anything, Jamie held a finger up to his lips in the universal expression for shush. Once Claire had fallen quiet, he pointed outwards to the shrub of trees sitting just to the right of them. Claire was by no means an expert in trees, no matter how many times Uncle Lamb had tried to teach her. But she could see that this type of tree didn’t lose its needles, even in the cold months. 

She was about to ask Jamie why he’d gone silent, and what on earth she was suppose to looking at – when she saw them. 

Two of them. 

Two robin red breasts. 

One of them sat on the tree branch, while the other fluttered about on the earth, picking up tree needles to perhaps use to make a nest. Realising she had been holding her breath, Claire sucked in a massive load of oxygen until she felt lightheaded and then breathed it back out with a woosh! 

Jamie gripped her hand, giving it three tight squeezes. “Are ye okay?” He whispered. 

“I don’t know,” was her only honest answer. How was she supposed to tell Jamie if she was feeling okay, when she didn’t yet know herself? 

“That’s them, ye ken that, right? They’ve come to say hello to ye. To send ye a sign. A sign ye’re exactly where ye’re suppose to be, here with me.” 

“Yes,” Claire nodded jerkily. “Do you… do you usually see robins up here?” 

Jamie wiped away the lone tear trailing down her soft cheek with his fingertips. “Aye, I’ve seen one once or twice at Christmas. But I’ve never seen them this close up and I’ve certainly never, ever seen two together like this.” 

“Thank you for coming to visit me,” Claire said aloud, sounding loud in the silence, even to her own ears. She pressed her fingers to her chapped lips, placed a dry kiss and then blew towards when the two robins sat. “My Mother would always blow me a kiss before she left anywhere, and I’d catch it and place it over my heart.” She explained to Jamie without taking her eyes off of the birds.

It seemed Jamie couldn’t tear his eyes away either. They sat together in the same position, watching the way the birds worked, never realising they had an audience. 

“Will you show me some more of the land?” Claire broke the silence; feeling like it was time to move on. 

“Aye, whatever ye want. We could go see the old fishing pond, and then the horses?” 

Claire agreed to his plan and stood up. Back down the hill she and Jamie walked, hand in hand. She looked behind herself once, giving herself the chance to get one last glance at the robins, before facing forward with Jamie steady by her side. 

XxX

“Are they back yet?” Ellen asked her son in law Ian as he entered the kitchen. She and Jenny sat at the smaller, informal table, discussing how lovely Claire seemed and how right a fit she was for their Jamie as they cross-stitched, and waiting for her and Jamie to get back from their walk. 

“Yes and no, I’ve just come from the stables. Thought I’d check on them before we all settled in, but I can’t get in towards the bales of hay.” 

“What ye mean ye can’t get in?” Jenny mumbled, her tongue sticking out in concentration as she picked out a knot. 

“Them two. Jamie and Claire, standing in front of the bales of hay, snogging like teenagers. They’re not even looking at the horses, for God’s sakes.” 

Jenny retched and fixed her husband with a death glare. “I don’t wanna ken what my brother and his new girlfriend get up to. Not now, and not ever. So, shut ye trap.” 

“Och, hush, Jenny,” Ellen reprimanded her daughter. “Ye brother’s finally found somebody he’s happy with. Ye should be happy for him.” 

“I am! Still doesn’t mean I need to ken what he’s doing in his spare time, does it? Ugh,” She physically shivered. “It’s giving me the jeebies.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas Eve you lovely lot!!
> 
> I think this might my favourite chapter out of the lot so far, what do you think? I pre wrote this last week, and have decided to take the week off for xmas so I'm unsure exactly when chapter twenty will be up but I'm hoping to have it up after xmas and before the new year and my birthday :)
> 
> Let me know what you are getting up to for Christmas! I hope you have a brilliant day, no matter what you're doing or who you're spending it with. 
> 
> xo


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and little Maggie bond, and Jamie and his Mam have a little chat.

After finishing their walk around the estate, Jamie led Claire into the warm sanctuary of the stables. Six horses filled the space. The four legged creatures took interest in the two of them when they first entered, but soon realising they had no treats to give them, turned their attention back to chomping at their bag of hay. 

They wasted more time kissing than Claire would have liked to admit. It had started off innocent, with Jamie pecking her on the lips, and then quickly escalated. As it usually did between the two of them. 

By the time they made up back into the entryway of Lallybroch, the light outside was dimming. A sure sign evening was on its way. The whole family sat in the living room, chatting away and trading stories, with Claire included as the hours whizzed by. 

It was completely the truth, what she’d told Jamie up on the hill, about feeling like she fit in here. Moving around so much as a young child and teenager had made it hard to her to feel like she belonged to one place for more than a handful of months. And with Frank… well, she’d tricked her mind into believing she belonged with him. But that hadn’t been true. Especially not compared to how she felt as she sat on one of the duck egg blue sofas in front of the now roaring fire, Jamie sitting on one side and Jenny on the other. 

The only other placed she’d felt like she belonged, was her childhood home that she shared with Uncle Lamb down in Oxfordshire. But she hadn’t lived there properly for nearly a decade. Lallybroch was the next closest thing she had ever found. It wrapped her up and kept her safe like a warm blanket. It was comforting, without trying, like your favourite pair of pajamas that’s been through the washing machine one too many times. There wouldn’t be enough words in the English language for her to express her gratitude to both Jamie and every member of his family for welcoming her in with open arms. 

She felt like she’d stumbled home. Which was beyond strange since she’d never been to Lallybroch before. Jamie’s presence did the exact same thing. If you’d asked her this time last year what she would be doing in a years time, she would never in a million years answered meeting her new boyfriend’s family. She’d never even dreamed that she and Frank would split up for good, let a known meet somebody like Jamie quite so quickly. But after her thirty years on this planet, Claire had come to the realization… strange things happened every day. Miracles occurred. Your life could change dramatically in one year, in one week, in one day, in a blink of an eye, really. Jamie walking into Claire’s life was nothing short of a miracle, if you asked her. There was something about him, which made her feel so open and honest. So… herself. Frank had certainly never made her feel this way. 

To others it might make no sense how fast she jumped into another relationship, how fast she and Jamie became intimate with one another, how different Jamie was compared to Frank. But it made sense to Claire, and that was all that mattered. Of course, she was still human and sometimes did worry about what others thought of her. Tom Christie, her other co-workers, Frank’s friends – just to name a few. However, deep down Claire knew those people didn’t matter. Their opinions were irrelevant; they didn’t affect her day to day life. And, most likely, their opinions about her were usually formed due to only hearing one side of the story, or projecting onto her what they thought about themselves. 

Claire was happy, sickeningly so, and she wasn’t going to lie down and let others spoil that for her and Jamie.   
Claire hadn’t glanced at the large clock hanging above the fireplace once and was very surprised to learn it was dinner time when it chimed a joyful tune. Ellen had put together a picnic style array for everybody to tuck in and enjoy. The table settings had been cleared away and replaced with plates full of different mini foods; more sandwiches, crisps, sausage rolls, cubes of cheese, nuts, crackers and squares of chocolate. Paper plates with napkins were handed out, so everybody could just help themselves to whatever they wanted, as many times as they wanted.

At around six o’clock, Jenny took both Wee Jamie and Maggie upstairs for their evening bath. The two children came back down with their Mother, about half an hour later, dressed in their favourite pajamas with their hair soaking wet. Wee Jamie sat still on the sofa, while Jenny quickly combed his hair over to one side, and then sat a way from the fire for it to dry quicker. Maggie, however, was a different story. Jenny had placed her daughter onto her lap to make it easier to comb the back of her hair. But as soon as Jenny touched the comb to Maggie’s head, Maggie let out a high pitched squeal. 

“Don’t Maggie,” Jenny tried to pacifier her. “Just let Mammy brush ye’re hair. I’ll do it quickly, baby.” 

Maggie cried out again, her fists balling up, as the brush swished passed the ends of her fine hair. “Air! Air! No, Mammy!” 

“What are ye saying, Maggie?” Jenny’s voice sounded like she was on her last tether. 

“Air! Air, do it!” 

Jenny glanced over to where Claire sat, with a pleading look upon her delicate face. “I think she wants ye to brush her hair tonight. Ye wouldn’t mind, would ye, Claire?” 

“No, no, of course I wouldn’t. Put her on my lap, here,” Claire patted her empty lap, as Jenny placed Maggie down. The little child sat placidly facing her older brother, who was busying playing with some cars, as Claire gently grabbed hold of Maggie’s hair at the base of her neck. Starting at the bottom, Claire worked the comb through any of the tangles. Taking pains not to be too rough and hard handed. Maggie didn’t utter a peep, not a cry nor a scream unlike when she’d sat on her Mam’s knees.

Up this close and personal, Claire could smell the baby shampoo used to wash Maggie’s hair and the clean cotton smell of her pajamas. At just over two years old, Maggie still held some of that particular baby smell, and Claire snuggled a bit further up Maggie’s back to get a better whiff. Auntie and niece sat in companionable silence, Claire mesmerized by the crackling of the fire and the steady sound of the brush passing through the hair. And Maggie fixated on a cartoon of Tom and Jerry playing on the telly. 

Jamie caught her eye once or twice. His cheeks rosy red from the heat of the fire, a soft smile played about his mouth and his eyes twinkled with something akin to delight. 

“Ye’re a natural, Claire. Isn’t she, Jenny?” Ellen said, handing Maggie a homemade chocolate cookie, which fast began to melt in her chubby little hand and a sippy cup full of milk. 

“Aye,” Jenny agreed, sitting with her hand in her chin and watching Claire and Maggie. 

“Do ye want children, Claire?” Ellen asked simply.

Jamie choked on the last drips of his cup of tea. “Mam!”

Claire had to whack him on the back as he swallowed the liquid wrong and coughed uncontrollably. Maggie thought this highly amusing and giggled. 

“I do, eventually,” Claire answered once she was sure Jamie had stopped choking. “Timing just hasn’t been right, I suppose.” 

Ellen patted her hand, gently. “If it’s meant to happen, it’ll happen, lass. Don’t ye worry.” 

Not long after having their hair washed, brushed and dried, Wee Jamie and Maggie were sent off to bed. Being just a tad bit older, Wee Jamie got to stay up twenty minutes later than his little sister, but then he was led up the stairs by his uncle and read a bedtime story until his eyes grew heavy and he was fast asleep. 

After a long day of travelling, talking, walking and being on the go all day – Claire’s eyelids, too, were becoming heavy. She was an early to sleep, early to rise kinda gal anyway, probably due to having to get up so early for work for so many years. 

“I think I’m going to have a bath, and get into bed, too,” Claire said, standing up from the comfy sofa and stretching out her restless legs. 

“Sounds like a good idea to me. I won’t be far behind ye,” Jamie muttered, eyes fixed on the nightly football game running its course on the telly screen. 

“There are fresh towels on the bed for ye to use, and Brian took all ye luggage up. So, ye should be all set,” Ellen explained, also standing up. 

“Thank you. It’s the room at the end of the corridor, isn’t it?” 

“Aye, Jamie’s old bedroom, the one with the dark green door.” 

“Brilliant, thank you! Well, goodnight everybody!”

A chorus of ‘goodnight Claire’s’ followed after her as she and Ellen walked together to the staircase. Claire put her foot onto the first step and then spun around when she heard Ellen speaking to her. 

“I hope ye’ve had a lovely day here, Claire.” 

“I’ve had the best day, truly. Thank you for welcoming me in to your family. I don’t know if Jamie told you… I was very nervous to come here and meet you all. But, you’ve all be nothing but lovely.” 

Jamie’s Mother smiled broadly and took Claire’s hands in her own. “Ye’re very welcome, sweetheart. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my boy look so happy. And it’s ye who’s putting the smile upon his face, so I’ve got to thank you a thousand times over.” 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Jamie makes me so unbelievably happy, too.” 

“Och, lass, I can see that. It’s written, plain as day, all over ye’re face. Ye’re a lovely lass, Claire. Ye’re welcome at Lallybroch anytime – I hope ye ken that.” 

She would not cry, although she could feel her eyes filling up. Her throat would not get clogged up, even though she could feel the lump growing. “You’ll never know how much that means to me,” Claire managed to cough out. “Thank you, Ellen.” 

Ellen just nodded, as if she could sense (just like her son) exactly what thoughts were running through Claire’s mind. “Ye’re one of us now, sweetheart. Now, get yerself upstairs, and treat yerself to a nice hot bath.”

“See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Claire.” 

Up the stairs, and down the corridor, Claire came face to face with the dark green painted door - a marker that this one was Jamie’s room. She pushed open the door and then closed it behind herself with a quiet snap. All the exercise and getting to know everybody a little better meant neither she nor Jamie had had time to come up to his room yet. Claire leaned her body against the doorframe as she surveyed the space in front of her, the place she would be sleeping tonight and any other night they stayed at Lallybroch. 

The bedroom had a similar feel to the living room. Bright white covered the four walls, but instead of a blue trim, the trim had been painted a dark green to match the door. A double poster mahogany bed sat in the middle of the room. White sheets turned back and pillows plumped, making it look most inviting and comfortable. She and Jamie’s luggage had been placed at the foot of the bed, where a chaise lounge sat with fresh towels folded upon it. The door to the en suite bathroom was to her left hand side, and it was there Claire made a beeline for. 

The bathroom was white porcelain and tiled with light brown tiles. A bathtub sat tucked away into the corner, with a separate shower next to it. Claire twisted the hot water tap until a slosh of water ran through the pipes, and the tub began to fill up invitingly once she’d put the plug in. A small array of toiletries sat on the counter, underneath a massive mirror where the sink was situated; some toothpaste, mouthwash, an extra bar of soap, hair gel and a tiny bottle of translucent, sticky liquid. Intrigued, Claire picked up the bottle and searched for a label to explain the contents. 

“Babylis and Harding Winter Honeysuckle and Elderflower Bubble Bath,” she read aloud. 

It quite clearly didn’t belong to Jamie, unless he secretly enjoyed a good bubble bath and he just hadn’t told her that piece of information yet. It was most likely something of Ellen’s doing. Twisting the lid off, Claire took a whiff of the bubble bath and smiled to herself at how beautiful it smelt. Well, it would do no good to waste such a lovely bath product, and Ellen had obviously placed it there for her to use. Claire poured the thick liquid into the running water, watching as bubbles quickly began to form. 

Adding some cold water into the mix, she swished the water around with her hand to evenly distribute the bubbles and then went to fetch everything else she would need. Claire unzipped her bag, taking out her kindle, a pair of pajamas, a pair of bedtime fluffy socks, toothbrush, hairbrush and all of her nighttime skincare routine bits and bobs. She dumped her items also onto the counter, making sure to put the towel onto so it was easily reachable once she’d gotten out of the water. 

She stripped her clothes off; taking more time than usual with the amount of layers she had on and then dipped her big two in to test the water temperature. Finding it exactly to her liking, Claire sunk underneath until her whole body was fully submerged underneath the soothing bubbly water. With a large sigh, she cracked open the kindle case and settled in for a bit of alone time with her newfound favourite characters. 

After just a little over half an hour in the bath, Claire drained out the now cold water, dried her body and slapped on her nighttime skin routine. Just as she was applying a thick layer of face moisturizer, she heard the outer bedroom door open and then snick closed. “Claire?”

“Bathroom,” She answered back to Jamie’s call. 

His shock of red hair popped into the pure white bathroom. “Ye okay?” 

“Mhm, are you?” She asked, moving onto applying a liberal amount of calming essential oils onto her pressure points.

“Aye. Was ye bath nice?” 

“Fab! You’re Mother left some lovely bubble bath for me to use. I’ll have to ask her where she bought it, so I can use some at home.” 

Jamie snuck up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and placing his chin on the top of her head. Claire met his piercing eyes in the large bathroom mirror. “I think if ye tell her ye like it, she’ll buy ye a vat of the stuff for Christmas. Ye ready to get into bed, yet?” 

“Just one last thing.” Digging inside of her makeup bag, Claire pulled out a tub of Vaseline, dipped her fingertip into it and smeared the clear gel over her chapped lips. “You want some?” 

“Nah, I can just do this.” He pressed his lips to her lipbalm covered ones. 

“Get away,” Claire laughed, pushing him off of her gently. “I need it more than you. My poor lips feel like sandpaper, and you aren’t helping. Are you going to have a shower?”

“No, I’ll get one in the morning.” Jamie led the two of them out of the bathroom. Claire picked a side of the bed, pulled back the covers and flung herself into the sheets – pleasantly surprised when she found a warm water bottle at the end of the bed where her feet would lay. 

“Do ye want the fire lighting? Or do ye think ye’ll be warm enough under the covers when Mam turns the heating off?” Jamie asked, his voice muffled by the fabric of his jumper being pulled over his head. He folded his jumper neatly and placed it back into his travel bag, either to be worn again or to be taken home and put into the washing machine. 

Settling her head onto the feather down pillow, Claire pulled the covers up to her chin and watched Jamie move about the room fluidly. His hair stuck up in all directions due to the static from removing his jumper, and Claire’s hand physically itched to run her hands through it and smooth it down before messing it back up again. 

He took off the clothes he’d been wearing all day, replacing them with a long sleeved Henley sleep t-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. Claire admired the glimpse of his body that he allowed her, a good looking, toned body, which she hadn’t had the chance to ogle all day. 

“Did ye hear me?”

“Pardon?” Too busy salivating, and not enough time answering his question, good work Beauchamp. 

“Will ye be warm enough tonight? Or do ye want me light the fire?” He repeated.

“No,” She coughed out. “No, I’ll be fine, unless you want it lit.” 

Jamie shook his head and climbed into bed on the other side. “Body heat should work just fine.” 

Claire yelped loudly as he pressed his icy cold toes to her calf instead of on the hot water bottle. “Take those ice blocks off of me, before I castrate you.” 

“I’d like to see ye try,” Jamie mumbled, rolling halfway on top of her and tucking his face into the safety of the crook of her neck. Claire could feel the way his ridiculously long eyelashes tickled a spot underneath her ear as he blinked. 

“I’m the surgeon here, remember. It’s my job to cut things off…”

“Ye’re evil, woman…”

Claire shrugged, something which wasn’t an easy feat with Jamie’s body weight pinning her to the bed. “I know. Has everybody else come up to bed, too?” 

“Aye, Jenny and Ian went up about ten minutes after ye left for bath – the bairns will have them up early. Da’s just catching up with the rugby scores. And Mam’s doing a last tidy around before they both come up.” 

“Mhm… Jenny’s kids are lovely. Maggie, in particular, she’s very cute.”

“Aye, she is. Spitting image of Jenny, when she was that age, or so Mam says. Ye two seemed to be getting on like two peas in a pod; I think ye’re her new favourite.” 

“She’s a sweet little thing.”

“Wee Jamie is too, he just takes a little longer to warm up to strangers. Don’t worry, ye’ll be a hit with both of them, before ye even ken it.” 

Pecking Jamie on the lips, Claire turned her head to check the time on her phone. Her phone did indeed sit on the nightstand where she’d left it, but sitting it next to it was a shining gold football trophy. A trophy she hadn’t noticed before what with being too caught up in Jamie’s abs. 

“Hey! Your football trophy!”

“How do ye ken about that?” Jamie asked, ducking his head out from underneath her chin and propping himself up on his forearms. His eyes ping ponged from the football trophy in question, back to Claire’s makeup less face. 

“It was one of the other photos I saw when I came upstairs with your Mother to borrow a jumper. She told me all about you winning team captain and the trophy.”

“Oh, she did, did she? So, does the football captain get a special kiss then?” 

Jamie rolled the two of them further towards his side of the bed, ending up with Claire plastered on top of him. “You’re ridiculous,” she giggled, covering Jamie’s face in multiple kisses, as he pulled the duvet covers up and over the two of them. 

XxX

God knows what the time currently was, but Jamie lay awake. With his hands folded over his stomach, he gazed up at the popcorn textured ceiling. Claire lay on her side, facing him, fast asleep – Jamie was rather jealous of her ability to be able to sleep anywhere and everywhere. 

The issue was, he was unsure what exactly was keeping him awake. Jamie should be bone tired after all that driving, walking, and playing with his niece and nephew. He could think of nothing in particular that might be playing on his mind or worrying him. He’d had an amazing day, even better than he’d expected. 

Not to blow his own trumpet, but he’d never had one worry about his family not liking Claire. After the first couple of conversations he’d had with the Englishwoman, he’d known she’d fit right in with the madness of the Frasers. Claire was just the right amount of sarcastic, loving, and crazy to get right along with everybody – with her off the cuff jokes, even making Ian laugh. 

And, of course, he’d been right not to be worried. After Claire had said her goodnights and gone off to have a hot bath, his Da had patted him on the shoulder. 

“Ye’ve picked a good one, son,” Brian had said, with a twinkle in his catlike eyes. 

Jenny had been ecstatic. So much so, poor Ian couldn’t get a word in edgeways. 

“I love her!” Jenny bounced up and down on the sofa cushions, her hands clasped together at her heart. 

Ian looked over from the rugby match to his overexcited wife, “Shut up. She’ll hear ye.”

Jenny scrunched up her face at her husband’s words, “I couldn’t give a toss.” And then turned back to her younger brother. “Did ye hear me? I love her!”

“Aye, I heard ye all right,” Jamie answered. 

“Ye’ve gotta keep her forever. Don’t ye dare screw this up, brother. I mean it! She’s been so lovely to all of us, and funny… Ye didn’t tell us she was hilarious! And did ye see how good she was with the bairns? Seriously, Jamie, what is there not to like about her?” 

“I do already ken these things. Did ye think I’d just picked a random lass off the street?”

“Well, no. I just didn’t expect her to be so… och, I don’t ken. She just fits right in, like we’ve known her forever. And she’s gorgeous! Body like a bloody victoria secret model!”

Jamie had had enough of staring wide eyed at the bedroom ceiling. When he’d been little and unable to drift off, his Mam had always made him a hot drink – whether it be milk, tea or a hot chocolate. A good cup of steaming hot tea, with perhaps a biscuit or two, sounded good right about now. Very careful not to disturb and awaken Claire, Jamie maneuvered himself out of bed, out of the door and down the stairs towards the kitchen. 

Jamie guessed it must have been early hours of the morning, because as he pushed open the kitchen door he could feel the heating emanating from the under floor heating system. He started halfway through the doorway, blinking hard to make sure the figure sitting at the small table was indeed his Mam and not a ghost. 

“Mam?”

“Jamie?” She asked, peering up at him blearily eyed from her own hot drink sitting on the table. “Ye not able to sleep either?” 

“No. Thought I’d make myself a hot drink, like ye used to make for me when I was a bairn.” 

“Sit down,” Ellen pushed the chair opposite out for him to sit on with her slipper clad foot. “I’ll make ye a cuppa.”

Jamie did as his Mam asked, watching her as she bustled about her happy place. She pulled out his favourite, beaten up mug from the cupboard, added a teabag and the right amount of sugar, and then poured in the steaming water. Milk was added next, stirred, the teabag extracted and then handed over the table ready for Jamie to drink. 

Her hand hovered over the handle of another cupboard, “Ye want some biscuits?” 

“Aye, please.”

Mother and son sat in companionable silence as Jamie dunked his biscuits and Ellen slurped her drink. 

“Is Claire still asleep?” 

Jamie looked up to find his Mam staring at him, her chin resting on her folded hands. 

He smiled instinctively, thinking about how Claire looked as she slept. She usually tossed, turned and fidgeted all night, which, in turn, make her look in the morning like she’d stuck her fingers in an electrical socket. Or like a little gremlin. But at least she was his little gremlin. “Aye, out like a light… What do ye think about her?” 

“I really like her, Jamie, she’s a lovely person. And I think she’s a really good fit for ye. She makes ye happy lad, I can see it written clear as day all over ye’re face. Ye ken, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for ye. Doesn’t matter to me what ye do, and with who, as long as ye happy.” 

“I am happy, Mam. Scarily so…” 

“Are ye falling in love with her?” 

Jamie couldn’t answer that truthfully. So he said nothing, choosing instead to focus on the wood grain running through the center of the table. A pattern he’d looked at daily since he was wee and had probably memorized by now. 

“Are ye already in love with her, then?” 

Where on earth did Mothers learn this special talent, of knowing exactly what their children were thinking without any words even being exchanged?

Jamie sniffed, “aye.” 

“Have ye told her?” 

No was the answer. Ellen covered her son’s with her own in a comforting gesture. 

“Are ye scared too?” 

“Aye,” Jamie whispered, even though there was nobody else in the kitchen, or anybody else awake except for his Mam. 

“Why? Do ye not think she feels the same way?” 

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t ken. Sometimes… sometimes her feelings are a bit hard to read.” 

“And that’s okay,” Ellen squeezed his hand tightly. “Not everybody is as open as we are, sweetheart. Perhaps she wasn’t taught how to talk about such things.”

“I guess…”

“I saw the way she looked at ye today, Jamie. Like ye were the best thing since sliced bread. And the way her entire face lit up when she heard ye’re name. Just because she hasn’t said anything yet, doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel the same way for ye as ye do for her. Ye just need to give her a little time, can ye do that?” 

His head moved up and down jerkily. “Aye, I can do that. Thanks, Mam.” 

“Come here,” Ellen stood up and yanked her son into a tight hug. “I’m here for ye whenever ye need, okay? I’m always just at the end of the phone. But I have no doubt in my mind, that lass loves ye. Feel better now for getting off of ye’re chest?” 

Jamie nodded, resting his head on his Mam’s collarbone as he had always done. 

“Good, that’s what I’m here for. Now sit back down, finish up ye’re drink and see if ye can fall asleep with a clear mind this time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year to you all!
> 
> It's actually my birthday today, so this is my gift from me to you - wishing you all love and light to take with you into 2021. Here's hoping its a better year for all of us.
> 
> xo


	21. Chapter Twenty One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of PTSD and a panic attack occurs

Jamie woke up with a much clearer head on Sunday morning. 

After finishing up his late night chat with his Mam, he’d placed his dirty cup into the dishwasher and followed his Mam up the stairs. They’d parted ways at the corridor, bidding each other a goodnight and sweet dreams. Jamie had shut his bedroom door softly behind himself and then stared at Claire starfishing across the bed. She’d taken full advantage of the extra space by flinging out one arm and one leg across his side of the bed and hogging all the bedcovers while she was at it. 

Jamie nudged her back over to her designated side as best as possible, but it still meant most of his body was hanging off the edge. 

Claire’s (actual) side of the bed was empty when he eventually peeled open his eyes. She’d left him a little note with a spare piece of paper she’d found lying around – Gone downstairs C x 

Finding some clean clothes in his travel bag, Jamie got himself ready for the day, starting off with brushing his teeth and jumping in a scalding hot shower. 

He could hear Maggie’s sweet childlike squeals of laughter as he walked through the living room towards the kitchen at the back of the house. His Mam and Claire stood together looking at something on the kitchen countertop, both of them wearing an apron to protect their leggings. Little Maggie sat perched on Claire’s hip, happy as a clam. 

“Morning,” Jamie announced his presence. “Where’s everybody else?” He pressed a kiss to his Mam’s cheek, before grabbing hold of Claire’s hips from behind (as best he could with Maggie being held up in her arms) and kissing her as close to her mouth as he could reaching – ending up just catching the edge of her plump lips. Maggie got the last kiss of the morning, with a light one placed on the top of her head. 

“The boys are out playing football,” Ellen explained, reaching to grab some plain flour from a shelf in the pantry. “And we thought it nice to let Jenny and ye have a lie in.” 

“Time is it?”

“11, isn’t it?” Claire answered, rearranging Maggie in her arms so both of them were more comfortable. “I’m not exactly sure, I’ve left my phone upstairs.” 

“It’s all right. What ye and Mam making, anyway?” 

“And Maggie!” Claire bounced the toddler up and down. Isn’t that right, darling? How dare Uncle Jamie forget about you!”

The two year old raised her stubby arms above her head. “Me! Me! Aggie!” 

“Och, sorry, lass.” Jamie tickled his niece underneath her arms, making her erupt in a fit of laughter. “Please forgive me.” 

“Mhm, we’ll see, won’t we Maggie,” Claire smirked. “We’re making cinnamon rolls and maybe some homemade bread if we have time to prove it and bake it before the Sunday dinner is ready.” 

“Save me a cinnamon roll, won’t ye? I’m gonna go find me trainers, and play football with the lads.” 

“Wrap up warm, please,” Ellen said, existing the pantry with an armload of baking ingredients. “Don’t want ye catching a cold or anything this close to Christmas.”

“Mam, Christmas is just under a month away…”

“Aye, and? Ye’ll end up catching something and then passing it on to all of us. I’m not having anyone be ill for Christmas this year. I tell ye, last year, Claire…” 

Jamie left his girls to their baking to go and find his trainers and something appropriately warm to wear before kicking around a tatty football with some of his favourite people. 

XxX

Ellen served the annual and well anticipated Sunday dinner just as the clock struck 2 pm. Jamie and the boys had enjoyed a couple of hours outside in the freezing cold together. First, kicking around a football with both Jamies in the blue team and Ian and Brian in the red team. After they’d had their fill of messing around and tackling each other, Brian led them around the barn and fields to give each animal their daily breakfast. With Wee Jamie demanding to help, a lot of the feed went on the floor, but at least it was the thought that counted. 

From the moment he stepped back inside his childhood home, Jamie could smell a waft of goods baking, emanating from the kitchen. It reminded him of coming home from school on a Friday night. When he’d been younger, after school on Friday had meant one thing and one thing only… football club. He’d spend two hours going through drills and scoring goals with his best friends, before walking home covered in mud, bruises and scraps. When the weather had gotten colder, and the nights darker quicker, he would remember walking in the almost pitch black and then a warm fuzzy feeling filling up his heart as he saw the golden lights inside of Lallybroch signaling somebody was home – a beacon of light guiding him. 

Jamie had the same feeling now, knowing Claire stood in his childhood home, bonding happily with his Mam and his sister. 

Yesterday he’d watched Claire from afar, most of it without her even cottoning on. The way her whiskey coloured eyes had widened as they trundled up Lallybroch’s ridiculously long driveway and the large house had appeared – as if by magic – in front of her. Claire’s head had turned this way and that all day, taking in every sight and sound there was to behold, lest she forget or miss anything, even the most minor of details. 

She’d been nervous to meet his family, he knew this partially because of the few words she’d spoken about it, and mostly because of the way he had felt her straightened and freeze up as they stood side by side together in the entry hall meeting his Mam and Wee Jamie for the first time. Thankfully, she’d relaxed a tad bit more as she became familiar with everybody and continued to relax and get more comfortable as the day progressed into night. 

The Fraser, Murray blend of family was a lot to take in, he knew this himself, mainly because there were a fair few members. This often led to a constant steady stream of different conversations. Or, and worse, the same question being posed to you over and over again by different people. And in true fashion, they’d all done the exact thing to Claire, but thankfully Claire had been able to take it all in her stride as best she could. When he’d brought up the offer of touring the estate, it had been for himself as much as it had been for Claire. A break alone together had been much needed after constant chatter and hum. 

“You okay?” Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Claire’s posh English accent broke him out of his reverie, as she nudged his thigh with her bony knee underneath the wooden table. Jamie hadn’t even registered her sitting down beside him, nor the basket of freshly baked and buttered bread she had brought with her and placed in the middle of the table.

“Och… aye. Never been better,” he grinned.

XxX

“So, Claire?” Ellen began once she’d cleared her own plate. The expectant tone in her voice told Jamie to be scared about the question his Mam was about to ask. 

His girlfriend – god, his girlfriend, he’d never get over calling her that – chewed her piece of succulent chicken breast quickly and took a sip of water before saying, “Yes?” 

“What do ye usually do for Christmas, lass?” 

Jamie couldn’t look at Claire to see if the question took her aback, for fear of her reaction. He knew exactly where his Mam dearest was going with this conversation, but he couldn’t pinpoint what Claire would say. He’d planned to ask her after they’d gotten home from Lallybroch. Instead, his own Mam had beaten him to it. Typical. 

“Oh! Um… I usually just spent it with my Uncle Lamb, down in Oxfordshire.” 

“Will this year be the same?”

Claire gave Jamie a side along look and then shrugged. “I’m not sure, really. I guess we haven’t spoken about it yet, nor have I mentioned anything to Lamb.” 

“Well, ye’re more than welcome to spend Christmas with us this year, isn’t she Jamie? Ye Uncle can come along too if he likes, won’t take much to set up a guest bedroom for him.” 

“Are you sure?” Claire asked. 

“Aye, Mam’s right,” Jamie said, taking her hand in his. “Ye and ye’re Uncle can spend it with us, all the family together. What do ye think?” 

“I would love too, thank you! I’ll have to ask Lamb, and get his answer, but it’ll most likely be a yes.” 

Jenny clapped her hands together from across the table. “That’s settled, then! We’ll be all together! Ye need to start writing ye list, Claire, so we ken what to buy ye!” 

XxX

“I can’t thank you enough for this weekend,” Jamie heard Claire say to his parents as they said their goodbyes. 

With the Sunday dinner thoroughly demolished and Christmas plans underway, Ellen had brought out a tray of warm, sticky cinnamon rolls with the perfect amount of icing sugar drizzled on top. 

There’d been enough time for eating and a tale about a new family living up and over the hill, before he and Claire had to say their goodbyes and make their way to the car. Especially if they wanted to have a reasonable amount of time to get back home and sleep before the working week began again tomorrow. 

“Ye don’t need to thank us, lass,” His Da said, patting her gently on the back. “It’s been a pleasure to meet ye.” 

Ellen took her turn for giving Claire another hug goodbye, “We’ve loved having ye, Claire.” 

“Aye,” Jenny chimed in, picking up a squalling Maggie so the little toddler could say goodbye to her newfound favourite person properly. “Don’t be a stranger, mind. Give me a text when ye’ve got a Saturday off and we can do something – just us girls for a change.” 

“That would be lovely, Jenny,” Claire said, kissing Maggie on the forehead. 

Before long, Jamie and Claire were back on the old country roads towards home. 

“Did you have a good time?” Claire asked as the car whizzed past rain sodden pastures. 

“Aye, I did. Did ye?” 

She nodded. “Yes, just tired from all the fresh air.”

“Try to have a little nap,” he suggested. 

“Yes, I might… wake me up in half an hour, won’t you? I don’t want to sleep too much and then not fall asleep tonight.” Claire nestled further down in the passenger seat and rested her temple against the windowpane. 

Hearing Claire drift off, Jamie turned the radio off so as to not loudly wake her up. It was very unusual to find him driving without some sort of noise in the car; whether it be music from his phone, music from the radio or a podcast. Although, now it was quiet, he couldn’t say he was mad about it. 

Just a little over half an hour had passed by the time Jamie broke the silence by calling out Claire’s name softly. She awoke with a sudden start, pupils wide and eyes wild as she searched for the source of her name. 

“It’s time to wake up, lass. There’s a service station up ahead. Do ye wanna stop and stretch ye legs? Use the loo?” 

Claire didn’t reply, but continued to look around her surroundings as if she’d never seen them before. Jamie put it down to her still being half asleep and disorientated. 

Switching his turn signal on, Jamie turned left into one of the many service stations dotting the motorway. The car park was practically empty, except for two large trucks parked over ways at a rest stop. It wasn’t a large surprise to see how empty the place was. Not a lot of people were travelling up and down the country on a Sunday, what with school and work starting up again on the Monday morning. 

Claire still hadn’t uttered a word, not even when Jamie parked underneath a large oak tree and pulled his keys out to switch off the engine. 

“Claire? Ye alright?” 

She shook her head no, those bonny curls of hers swinging with the movement. “I’m… I’m having…” Claire tapped her nails on the glass. “Window… open.” 

Jamie wound down her side of the window for her as quickly as he possibly could. Claire’s complexion, which was usually pale normally, had gone an almost greyish colour. The colour of lumpy glue like porridge, that used to be served at his school. Not only did it look like the blood was draining out of her body bit by bit, but she was also now gulping in straining, deep breaths. Her head practically hanging out of the window like a dog – which would have been quite a funny sight, if he hadn’t been so concerned about her. 

“Claire? What’s wrong?” He took her hand in a comforting gesture, but her fragile hand felt cold, clammy and lifeless. 

“P… p… panic attack…” Surely, she shouldn’t sound that breathless with cold fresh air blowing in. 

“Ye’re having a panic attack?” Jamie asked. He’d heard of panic attack and anxiety attacks before, but he’d certainly never witnessed one nor learnt what to do when facing that situation. 

Claire bobbed her head up and down in an unsteady motion.

“Right.” Even Jamie felt dry mouthed now. How on earth did you calm somebody down from a panic attack? How long did they usually last for? “Um… breathe, Claire. Don’t hold ye breath like that. Hold my hand tightly, I’m right here. I’m here with ye, I promise. I’m not going anywhere.” 

He felt a piece of his heart break into pieces, as Claire looked at him with tears swimming in her vulnerable eyes. 

“I’m here, ye’re not alone. Just hold on to me. We’ll breath together, okay? In through ye’re nose and now out through ye mouth. Good. And again. Is it helping?” 

Claire shook her head no, tears now falling thick and fast. If anything, her breathing had become more ragged. 

“Ye’re alright, Claire, I promise. I’m not gonna let anything happen to ye. Look, look at the tree.” He pointed with his other hand. “Focus on the tree. Imagine what it would look like in the middle of spring or summer compared to now. It might have those bonny pink flowers growing on it. It might have bees buzzing around. What about the sun, eh? Imagine what it would feel like to step outside this car and it not be freezing cold. Maybe, instead, ye could feel the sun’s warmth on ye bare skin. Can ye hear the cars going by? How many of them do ye think there are? Where do ye think they’re traveling too?” 

As he continued to talk, Jamie kept a close eye on the rise and fall of Claire’s chest. Taking her hand in his, he’d also been able to feel when her pulse partially slowed down and began to thrum at a normal rhythm again. Claire sucked in a deep breath smoothly, filling up her lungs to their full capacity with fresh air. She did it again. And again, until her breath returned to it’s regular rhythm. 

Jamie wiped away her falling tears with his calloused thumb. “Is it over?” 

“I think so,” Claire sniffed, dabbing at her nose with the long sleeve of her top. 

“How do ye feel?” It might have been a silly thing to ask, but Jamie knew to never underestimate the power of such a seemingly simple question. 

“Wrung out and drained. Like my body’s just ran a marathon without my brain realising.” 

“Have ye… have ye had one before?” 

Jamie knew what Claire’s answer would be when, rather than looking at him and speaking, she chose to stay silent and look out of the open window. It had started to rain. Fitting, he thought, for the way Claire felt. 

“Claire?” He tried again. “Please don’t shut me out, lass.”

“I feel stupid and embarrassed,” she said softly, still choosing not to face him. 

Another piece of Jamie’s heart chipped away, hearing how small and lost she sounded. But why wouldn’t she look at him? Was it because she didn’t trust him enough? Didn’t love him enough? 

Jamie physically shook his head to get rid of his own spiraling thought process. Trust or love had nothing to do with why Claire wouldn’t look at him; she would probably shy away if this had happened with anybody else to witness the panic attack, too. She was quite clearly struggling with her mental health – I mean, who wouldn’t with some of the things she’d had to face in her life. It couldn’t have been easy to grow up without either parent and then to have a fiancée leave you so unexpectedly and out of the blue like that. Jamie knew he needed to get Claire to explain it herself, trust her to tell him the full and honest truth. It was most likely; none of this even revolved around their relationship what’s so ever. 

“Why? There isn’t any reason for ye to feel silly or embarrassed. Please look and talk to me, Claire.” 

“I’m sorry,” Claire turned her tearstained face to his. “I don’t mean to shut you out, I just don’t know how else to deal with it… I’ve had panic attacks for… well, for years, on and off.”

Jamie kept himself tethered to Claire by keeping a hold of her hand and tracing his other fingertip up and around her jean clad knee. “Why didn’t ye tell me?” 

“I’ve never told anyone. I think Geillis suspects, but I’ve always just hidden them, usually by hiding in the bathroom.” 

“No one?”

How on earth had she hidden it for so long? She’d been in a long term, serious relationship, How had Frank never found out? 

“Not even Frank?” 

The colour Claire had regained in her face, after the passing of the panic attack, seeped back out again at the sound of her ex fiancée’s name. 

“No, I did tell him. He didn’t want to know, told me I was probably just making them up in my head. I… I think it’s PTSD, you see. I still remember to this day learning about it in my health studies class at university. My professor began teaching us the signs of PTSD, and I related to most of the symptoms. I’d gone home and told Frank, but he thought… well, I think he thought I was crazy. I decided never to mention it again.” 

Jamie felt sick to the bottom of his stomach. How could a person who said he loved Claire and wanted to marry her, treat her in such a way?

“Ye’re not crazy, ye ken that, right? PTSD and panic attacks are real things, not just made up in ye head.” 

“I know.” Claire bit her lip in thought. “I did think about seeing a professional. A physiatrist or a therapist perhaps, but I always chickened out at the last second. I’m scared what they would say to me, would they judge me? And, at the time, I worried what Frank would think of me…” 

“There isn’t anything wrong with needing a professional’s help, that’s what they’re there for! Their job isn’t to sit there and judge ye, or think badly of ye. Their job is to listen to ye problems and suggest ways to help live a fulfilling life without constantly looking behind yeself. And as for Frank, well, he’s not here now, is he?” 

“I know deep down you’re right, Jamie,” Claire spoke, garbled through her sobs. “I need help, I don’t want to continue living my life like this. But I’m still so scared.” 

Jamie pulled her in for a hug as best he could in a cramped car. She was probably dampening his shirt with tears, snot and mascara, but it didn’t matter to him as long as he got to hold the woman he loved. 

“Its all right to be scared, lass. But, we can do it together; ye don’t have to get help alone. If ye’ll have me, I’ll be with ye every step of the way.” 

“Of course I want you, Jamie. I’ll always want you.” 

XxX

The ride home stayed pretty quiet the whole way there. 

Jamie unloaded their luggage as they stepped into his cottage, and Claire headed upstairs for a hot shower. He put his dirty clothes into the washing machine on a quick spin cycle and then began to plate up the leftover food Ellen had given the two of them. 

Claire came back down the stairs, her hair soaking wet and dripping down her back. Dressed in a fresh, clean pair of pajama bottoms and one of his butter soft cashmere jumpers, which swamped Claire’s petite frame. 

“Thank you,” Claire said, accepting the plate Jamie handed to her. “I feel a lot more human now after getting a shower.” 

“Good,” He pecked her on her cheek, getting a waft of her coconut shampoo as he did so. “Ye might feel even better after having some food and a good night’s sleep.” 

XxX

For the second night in a row, Jamie Fraser found himself unable to fall asleep at a reasonable time. 

Claire lay on her stomach, with a leg hitched up and an arm tucked underneath her pillow, fast asleep next to him. Jamie, however, lay in bed scrolling through his phone. He’d started researching different parts of mental health straight away, with the idea of learning some strategies to help Claire with. From there he’d found himself on a Google deep dive as he learnt more and more about anxiety, panic attacks and PTSD. 

Jamie put the dots together, even if Claire hadn’t, and deducted the car might have brought on Claire’s panic attack. PTSD survivors usually found certain triggers, which would relate to the event in question that caused the trauma in the first place. Triggers could vary day to day and also from person to person. After today in the car, it made sense to Jamie that perhaps cars could possibly pop up as one of Claire’s triggers. Mixed with anxiety (which Jamie was fast learning could happen at any time, at any place) this meant the car perhaps wouldn’t always cause Claire to experience an anxiety attack. They were a lot more common to happen if the person hadn’t been eating or sleeping enough, so those things were best kept an eye on. 

Time passed by in a blur as Jamie educated himself, and before long he noticed it was now the wee hours of the morning. Closing his eyes for just ten minutes before he clicked on this next article, wouldn’t hurt anyone… before long, he too, was out like a spark. 

XxX

The work week began early for Claire, way too early, if you asked her. If she was being completely honest to herself, she didn’t feel 100% after her panic attack yesterday in the car. It had drained the life out of her, so much so, that sleep had come easy. So yes, she might be feeling bone tired, but had decided to take this as a well needed sign from the universe. This was her kick up the arse to get some professional help, and with Jamie sticking by her side, she felt like there was no better time. 

First things first, she’d decided on telling Geillis about her mental health struggles. The more trustworthy and accepting people who knew, the more Claire knew she would feel supported. On their lunch break, Claire coerced her best friend into wrapping up warm and taking their hot drinks and sandwiches outside. The two women ate sitting on one of the public park’s benches, as Claire explained to Geillis everything she had been struggling with silently for years. 

In true best friend fashion, Geillis didn’t make a big deal out of it. Perhaps she might have been able to read Claire’s face and settled on keeping her reaction and questions low-key so as to not scare Claire.

“Thank ye for trusting me enough to tell me,” Geillis said, her vocal cords sounding a little bit choked up as she held onto Claire’s scrub claded knee. “And whatever route ye choose to go down, I’ll be right by ye side. I promise ye, Claire, no getting rid of me that easily.” 

Claire laughed, sounding high and watery to her own ears. “You’re the very best friend a girl could ask for, you know that right?” 

“I ken I’m amazing. It’s a hard job to do, but someone’s gotta do it,” Geillis giggled. “So, are ye thinking about talking to the mental health team downstairs?” 

Towards the end of her shift, Jamie sent Claire a text message to ask if she wanted picking up. After the whole weekend off, he’d also managed to swindle an early finish from Angus. Claire sent back her reply swiftly, ‘yes please! What would you like to do for dinner? X’

Just as she was signing off her last bit of patient confidentially paperwork, Jamie ambled into the waiting area, ready to pick her up from work just as he said he would. 

“I’ll not be a minute,” she told him. “And then I need to pop downstairs. Would you mind coming with me?” 

“Of course not, lass.”

In her quiet hours between checking up on patients, Claire had been able to talk to a member of the mental health team in the hospital on the phone. They’d asked her to come downstairs to their department after she finished work, to sign some paperwork and book in an appointment. 

Half an hour after she’d officially finished work, Claire and Jamie walked hand in hand outside of the hospital’s revolving door. Claire had booked herself an appointment with a therapist called Donna who specialized in people suffering with PTSD. Their first session was booked in for a week’s time, a place where the two women could get to know each other for the first time, and Donna would be able to diagnose how best to treat Claire’s mental health. 

On the way home, Jamie ran into their favourite Chinese takeaway place to grab their dinner. A celebratory meal; one, for meeting the parents, two, for Jamie’s early finish and three, for Claire stepping up the plate and taking the future of her life into her own hands. 

“I ken I haven’t said it yet, but I’m really proud of ye,” Jamie said, after they’d both finished their dinners and were sitting cuddling together on the sofa while a reality show played on in the background. 

“Thank you. For all of it, I mean. I was scared to tell you in case you didn’t want to be with my baggage and me anymore, but I know that isn’t the case. So, thank you for helping me, and supporting me, and sticking by me.” 

He placed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. “Ye worth it, Claire. All of it, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> I do hope you enjoyed chapter 21! Let me know in the comments down below. 
> 
> So, i think i've officially finished prewriting this fic. The final chapter word count is totally just under 10,000 words - i wanted to ask if you'd like that in one massive chapter? or split it into 2 different chapters to make it easier to digest? 
> 
> I'm hoping to post the last few chapters on Wednesday and Sundays, or maybe even before. So, i promise there won't be much waiting around to see how I've wrapped it all up!
> 
> Xo


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anybody who follows my tumblr... here is the chapter that made me cry my own eyeballs out... 
> 
> Enjoy lol x

If Claire had to pick her favourite month of the year, she would have easily picked August – the month of moving into her brand new home and the month of meeting a Mr Jamie Fraser. And if she had to choose the hardest month, it would easily have been November. To say had felt like a rollercoaster would have been an understatement. 

There had been large highs.

Spending time at work laughing her socks off with Geillis, spending nights together in Jamie’s company. And even, finding a Saturday off and deciding to go on a spa day out with the girls. The four of them; Claire, Geillis, Ellen and Jenny set out to one of the five star spas in Scotland, where they spent the whole day treating themselves to different pamper treatments. Claire finally used the voucher Geillis had gotten her for her birthday for money off a massage. Lying on the table, with relaxing music playing in the background and a woman working out the knots in her back, felt like heaven to Claire. Then, she’d treated herself to a manicure and a pedicure, choosing a lovely classic red colour for both, which would most likely go with any outfit. 

She ended stumbling through the door to Jamie’s cottage later than planned and also drunker than planned. After zoning out at the spa and salon, Geillis (God, why was it always Geillis?) suggested they go to the pub along the road for some drinks and something more substantial than tiny finger cucumber sandwiches. Everybody had been in agreement, so off to the pub they went. One drink turned into two, then three, four and so on until neither Claire nor any of the other women could stand up straight. 

Geillis had made herself cosy with the bartender and assured Claire she would be fine. If anything, she would be too fine and most likely wanted Claire to get out of the pub and stop cockblocking her. Jenny ended up phoning Ian to come pick the rest of them up. The dutiful husband he was, Ian listening patiently to a slurring Jenny while she attempted to give him directions to a pub she’d never frequented before. After many miscommunications between the two of them, Ian finally got the postcode to type into the satnav and promised he was on his way as fast as could drive. 

Another two drinks later, Ian pulled up outside. It took him a further twenty minutes to get Claire, Jenny and Ellen safely strapped into the car. 

“God, ye three a like toddlers!” He said, leaning over Claire with her seatbelt to shove it in the designated holder.

“I’m not sure if I need a wee…” Jenny mumbled, flailing around to fix her shoe, which had some how come off. 

Ian pinched the space between his two eyebrows. “I swear to… Janet! Do ye need a wee before we set off to Jamie’s?”

“Huh?” She muttered. “I didn’t say anything about needing a wee, ye eejit.” 

With a large sigh, Ian got himself strapped in securely and set off from the pub. 

“Ye two stay here,” Ian said, pointing to Jenny and Ellen in the backseat. He’d rolled to a stop outside of Jamie and Claire’s cottages and had begun the process of helping Claire out of the car. 

“It’s all right,” She said, as Ian set her up straight on her deer like legs… were they usually this wobbly? “I’ve sobered up a bit.” 

That was the moment she promptly fell through the door Jamie was currently holding open. Jamie peered at her lying prone on the kitchen floor and then up again at Ian’s figure hulking in the doorway. 

“Aye, definitely sobered up, lass. Good luck with this one, Jamie. Goodnight, Claire.” 

“Jamie! Jamie! James!” Ian had left his keys in the ignition with the engine still running, and Jenny had taken this as her sign to roll down her window and shout for her brother into the street. 

Jamie decided she most likely wouldn’t remember getting home, so it wouldn’t do any harm to just shut his front door and pretend like he’d never heard his sister. His Mam certainly wouldn’t recall anything, not if the way she had passed out in her seat had anything to do with it. 

“Right, up ye get.” Shutting the door, Jamie bent down to where Claire still lay laughing her head off at something only she had decided was funny. With either hand under her armpits, he managed to hoist her up and over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. 

“Mm, you’re strong,” Claire said as Jamie climbed the stairs together. “And fit,” she tacked onto the end as an after thought. 

“Ye’re not so bad yerself,” Jamie gently tapped her on her arse and then set her onto the bed with a flump. “I’m taking it ye had a good day, then?” 

Claire flung herself backwards onto the bed, leaving just her feet to dangle off the edge. “Och, aye.” 

“Are ye… are ye mimicking me?” Jamie asked, standing with his hands on his hips and looking down at her starfish like figure. 

She bit her lip. “Maybe…” 

“Well, I’m not going to have sex with someone that’s practically passed out. But that doesn’t mean I can’t tickle ye to punish ye…” He landed on the bed with just the right amount of force not to squish her and yet pin her down so he could easily tickle her neck. The sound of her squeals and peals of laughter had him laughing at nothing right beside her. 

The lows came in the form of therapy. 

For the first handful of sessions, it had been quite interesting to learn about parts of herself and her brain. Perhaps that had been the surgeon in her talking. Then they progressed into different coping strategies, breathing techniques and mindfulness. These all being tools to use either when feeling panicky or when a panic attack had decided to take place. Claire found she’d used some of the techniques before, without even knowing it, but she was also glad to have some more in her arsenal. 

Once they’d covered the basics, the sessions became much harder as Claire was pushed to think more and talk more about her past and where the PTSD might have formed. Donna, the therapist, had deducted part of the PTSD will have been formed due to her parent’s unfortunate accident in the car crash, but other things might also have contributed. Finding out what those ‘other’ things may be meant regular dives back into details of Claire’s past – something she wasn’t best pleased at having to relive and explain. 

The therapy sessions lasted an hour and a half, once a week and without fail, Claire would be exhausted once she walked out of the therapy room. One of the first things Donna had suggested was to reward herself for making through the grueling sessions. Something either big; like a buying an item of clothing or something small; like a hot bubbly bath – no matter how silly it felt at the beginning, Claire had been assured it would pay off in the long run. So, after her therapy sessions, Claire would be greeted with the sight of Jamie in his warm car with a hot drink of her choice. At the minute it was hot chocolate, with extra whipped cream and marshmallows. But, she had been eyeing up the coconut latte with two shots of vanilla bean syrup and cream on top, so that might have to be next week’s drink of choice. 

So, yes, the therapy had been difficult, and Claire wasn’t naïve enough to know it would become easier any time soon. However, she was determined to stick with it for her own sake and to better herself as a person. 

As November sat on the cusp of ending, Claire was reminded of Ellen’s offer to spend Christmas with the Frasers and the Murrays this year. She’d yet to mention it to Uncle Lamb. Other priorities had come crashing down into the forefront of her mind – but she knew she needed to ask him soon. Christmas would be upon them before they even knew it. 

“Do you think you could get next weekend off?” Claire asked Jamie, who appeared to be fiddling with something on his computer. The tip of his tongue stuck out in concentration.

“Eh… aye, I can ask. Why?” 

“Well, it’s the first of December next week, and I thought it might be nice to go and visit Uncle Lamb down in Oxfordshire. I haven’t posed the question about staying at yours for Christmas this year, yet, but I’m certain he’ll say yes. It’s just… If I stay at Lallybroch for Christmas and I don’t go down home now, well… I won’t get to say Merry Christmas to my parents.” 

Claire bit down on her thumb nervously, chewing the skin around her nail, a filthy habit that she really must try to stop in the New Year. 

Jamie stopped tapping on the keyboard to glance over at her. He wrapped his hand gently around the one in her mouth and pulled it away from her nibbling teeth. A thin string of saliva connected the thumb to Claire’s plump bottom lip. 

“I’ll get the weekend off, and we can drive down. It’ll be nice to meet ye’re Uncle before Christmas.” 

So they did exactly that. 

Claire phoned Uncle Lamb ahead of time and warned him about her and Jamie’s arrival. She explained about Ellen inviting them over for the Christmas period and how travelling down this weekend would be her only chance away from the heavy commitments of work to visit her parents one last time this year. As always, Uncle Lamb had been ecstatic at her coming to stay over and this time bring the boyfriend who had brought nothing but joy into his niece’s life. He’d accepted Ellen’s invite to spend Christmas at Lallybroch instantaneously. Which, to others, might seem a bit strange. Accepting to spend such a holiday with a family you’d never met, but it just about summed Uncle Lamb up. His job consisted of travelling to and fro a lot; he wasn’t a stranger to spending his time with people he’d never met before, in the slightest. 

Jamie, on the other hand, had gotten the weekend off in exchange for promising to pay for Angus’ drinks on New Year’s Eve. With a belly laugh and a handshake, Jamie had graciously accepted the offer. 

Travelling down to Oxfordshire this time was a much different experience for Claire than it had been a couple of months ago. For one, it was going to be a much shorter trip. For two, she didn’t have to sit in a stuffy train compartment because they had decided to take the car. And three, because Jamie sat beside her the whole journey there. 

“Are you nervous?” Claire questioned. 

Jamie sat in the driver’s seat, one hand on the steering wheel, and the other on the gear stick. As she studied him, Claire could see the lines around his eyes were tight. It could have been due to concentrating on the busy motorway in front of him, or it could be due to nerves. 

“A little,” Jamie admitted sheepishly.

She patted his thigh in a comforting gesture. “There isn’t any need to be.” And then said with a laugh. “Uncle Lamb is way less intimidating than your family.” 

Because she hadn’t taken the train, Uncle Lamb didn’t meet nor pick her up at the train station. Instead, she and Jamie got to drive straight to her childhood home. 

“It’s just this left,” Claire pointed to direct Jamie. “And then it’s number 22.”

With a pull of the handbrake and a twist of the keys to turn off the car engine, Jamie and Claire were more than ready to get out of the car and stretched their cramped legs. 

“You ready?”

Jamie took Claire’s hand and snuck a kiss onto the back of it, quickly. “Aye, let’s go.” 

XxX

Jamie didn’t really ken what he’d been expecting when he parked outside of Claire’s childhood home. Obviously, he’d been aware that (like him) Claire hadn’t grown up living in poverty on the breadline. And the house she’d grown up in showed exactly that. It wasn’t anywhere near as big as Lallybroch, but then again most places weren’t, and they were situated in the middle of a busy city center instead of in the middle of nowhere. However, number 22 Thornwood Street did have a lovely graveled driveway, with flowerbeds and bare trees on either side of it. The whole place must look quite lovely in the spring and summer time, when everything was blooming again. 

Before either of them had even knocked on the front door, it swung open – revealing a tall, dark brunette haired gentleman standing behind it. Although Jamie knew Uncle Lamb to be the ripe age of 60, if he did have to guess, he would have put Claire’s guardian in the age bracket between middle 50s. Apparently, all the Beauchamps aged like fine wines and never appeared their actual age. 

“Hello, darling,” Uncle Lamb said to Claire, scooping her up in a hug. 

“Hi, Lamb,” She replied. “You okay?” 

“Better now you’re here! And you must be Jamie!” He stuck out his hand for Jamie to grasp. 

“It’s lovely to ye.” Jamie smiled, hoping to convey innocence and not the fact he’d just fucked Claire’s brains out less than 24 hours ago. “Claire’s told me so much about ye.” 

“Only good things I hope… please tell me she didn’t tell you about the monopoly incident of 01?”

“No, I don’t think she did…” 

Claire chipped in. “Oh, you mean the one where you vomited all over the game board and then…”

“Hush, you,” Lamb directed at his niece with a mock dirty look and then clapped his hands together loudly. “Come on in Jamie and pass me your bags.” 

He could feel the change in temperature from cold to hot as he stepped over the threshold and handed the luggage bag to Lamb, who, in turn, placed it at the bottom of the stairs ready to be taken up. Then Jamie followed Claire into the small sitting room, where she stood looking around the cosy room with her hands sitting upon her hips. 

“The kettle’s all ready boiled, so would the two of you like a cup of tea?” Lamb asked, popping his head into the living room. 

“Aye, if it’s not too much trouble,” Jamie requested. “One sugar please.” 

Lamb nodded, mentally taking in Jamie’s tea order. “Darling?” 

Claire nodded her head absentmindedly. “Yes, please. Uncle?” She called, stopping him in his tracks as he presumably made to head to the kitchen. “Where on earth is your Christmas tree? You always have one up by now?” 

Uncle Lamb winked and tapped the side of his nose with his finger. “Let me make the tea and then I’ll fill you in.” 

As Lamb put together three cups of tea, Jamie took the time to peer around the living room. It was pretty bog standard; telly, sofa, chairs, coffee table. The only thing setting it apart from any other sitting room Jamie had even visited was the amount of knick knacks placed on every given surface. Most likely collected on the archeologist’s many travels. Among the knick knacks lay photographs, mainly of Claire. A chubby baby Claire being held in Uncle Lamb’s arms, Claire as a toddler with the same shockingly curly hair that had followed her into her adulthood being chased around a garden, grown up Claire dressed head to toe in graduation garb with her arm linked in her Uncle’s lovingly. 

“Here we are,” Lamb placed the three fine china bone mugs down onto the wooden coffee table with a dull thump. “So, about the Christmas tree…” 

Jamie stretched his impossibly long legs out in front of him as he slurped down his drink. As well as looking young, the trait of making good tea must have been passed down through the Beauchamp’s generations. Claire couldn’t cook much to save her life, other than odd small things, but she did make one hell of a good cuppa. 

Claire looked up expectably at her Uncle as she wrapped her hands around her warm mug to heat up her chilly hands. 

“I thought, if you weren’t too tired after the drive, that is, that we could go and get the Christmas tree all together. The three of us. I know we’re spending Christmas in Scotland this year, but… I guess I didn’t want to break the tradition and get a tree without you this year, darling.” 

Claire sniffed loudly and took a long drag of liquid out of her mug. “It would be lovely to go all together, Uncle Lamb, thank you.” 

While drinking their hot drinks, Uncle Lamb and Jamie talked, using their extra time to get to know one another. Lamb was exactly as Claire had described him, and she had obviously grown up around him, for their personalities and mannerisms were eerily similar. Their facial expressions, their sense of humor and quick wit, their sarcasm and their posh English accent were all one and the same. The apple clearly didn’t fall too far from the tree. 

As planned, the three of them set out to buy a real Christmas tree for Uncle Lamb. In a unanimous decision, they decided to drive Lamb’s old and very battered Land Rover to the farm, as it would be easy to shove the large Christmas tree into. Claire plugged her phone into the USB port sitting by the wheel, and the car filled with the crooning voice of Bing Crosby singing about wishing for a white Christmas. 

The Christmas tree farm wasn’t too long a drive away, and before long Jamie found himself standing in the middle of a field holding up every bloody Christmas tree in sight for inspection. 

His arm was starting to cramp. “How about this one?” 

“Too bushy,” Claire answered nonchalantly, her eyes already focused on the next tree victim. 

“She’s got a thing about this tree,” Lamb skiddled up beside Jamie as Claire trotted off further into the muddy field. “Ever since she was a young girl. She used to make lists explaining everything this perfect tree must have; smell good, right amount of space to hang baubles, perfect height, etc. You’ve just got to let her find it – mind you; she does find the best ones. But don’t tell her I said that. Her head wouldn’t fit through the door anymore. Claire, darling! What about this one?”

Hours later, when the sun had long gone set and the Christmas tree farm lit itself up with gaudy lights for you to be able to see where you were walking, Jamie, Claire and Uncle Lamb finally trudged their way to the car with a tree wrapped in plastic slung over Jamie’s broad shoulders.

Next came the task of getting said tree into its stand. Lamb made himself scarce, heading into the kitchen to whip up some dinner for the three of them, while Claire and Jamie struggled with straightening the tree and tightening the base. 

“Is it straight?” Jamie asked, his voice muffled as he sat crouched down, holding the bottom of the tree. 

Claire stood as far back as she could get, twisting her head this way and that to see if it was straight from every angle. “I think so, come and see for yourself?” 

Jamie crawled out and stood to his full height. He raised an eyebrow at the sight in front of his eyes. “Are ye joking, Claire? Straight? The tree’s on the bloody piss! Here, switch, ye go under and I’ll tell ye when it’s straight.” 

After a lot of tugging the poor tree to and fro so much that almost half of its needles ended up on the floor, Jamie and Claire got the tree to become as straight as it was going to get. Not a moment too soon, Uncle Lamb called them away to the table to eat the dinner he’d made, and then it was back in the living room with all hands on deck. Inbetween Jamie and Claire messing on with the stand, and cooking, Lamb had gotten boxes of Christmas decorations and twinkly lights downstairs – ready to be rifled through. 

Everybody knew the worse part of Christmas decorating had to be the lights. First, came the arguing about which lights to use; bright white, golden white, or multicoloured? Then, once the lights in question had been picked, there was the issue of wrapping them around the branches. 

“Do you need help, darling?” Lamb asked, as Claire stood looking down at a tangle of lights. 

“Yes, please. I’ll place the lights on the branches, if you thread the lights to me. Sound like a deal?” 

Jamie sat on the squishy sofa, watching as Uncle and Niece communicated silently in a series of movements you could tell they’d done a number of times before. Rather than looking cold and sparse, the Christmas tree was now beginning to take shape right before Jamie’s eyes, with the chosen lights reaching from the bottom all the way to the topmost branch. 

Claire clapped her hands together in excitement as she stepped out from behind the lights to check her handy work. “That should do it, don’t you think?”   
“Aye, looks very bonny, lass.” Jamie said. 

Claire sent a secret smile his way. 

Applying baubles was the last step, and this was of course more than a two-person job, so Jamie could help decorate too. He couldn’t gasp and recall the memory the baubles brought up, like Claire, who was doing exactly that with every decoration that passed through her fingertips. But he did still have fun listening to the shared anecdotes and getting a closer look into Claire’s childhood. He found you could tell a lot about a person from the way they decorated their Christmas tree. 

Over the course of a couple of hours, the sitting room became what could only be described as a Christmas grotto. Every available surface had been covered in ornaments, or tinsel, until the only thing remaining in the plastic box was a gold star, which appeared to be missing half its glitter. 

“I’ve had this since I was tiny,” Claire said, tracing her fingertip around the five points of the star. “No wonder it’s looking a bit tatty, it’s about 30 years old.” 

“Don’t ye want to take it home and use it on ye’re tree?” Jamie inquired. 

Claire craned her neck to look up at him. “No. I think I want to buy a new one and start a new tradition with you.” 

Jamie bent his neck to place a kiss on Claire’s lips, but Uncle Lamb interrupted him before he could do so. 

“Toasting time!” He carried with him three empty flute glasses and a bottle of champagne. 

“We always put the star on the tree and then have a glass of champagne to celebrate,” Claire explained, while Lamb set down the glasses and began to undo the casing holding the cork into the champagne bottle. 

“Even when ye were wee?” 

“Yes, even when I was small. Well, I used to have bucks fizz, so not as strong as champagne. But, you’re also talking to the women who, as a 13 year old, used to light Lamb’s cigar for him. Didn’t I Uncle Lamb?”

“You only used to light it,” Lamb passed out a flute full of golden bubbles to Claire and then one to Jamie. “It wasn’t like I let you smoke it fully. Now, put the star on, darling.” 

On tiptoes, Claire carefully placed the star onto the tree, completing the festivities. 

“What should we cheers to?” 

“Too meeting new people and having a Merry Christmas,” Lamb winked, knocking his glass off of Jamie’s so the two glasses made a high pitched ching. 

Jamie and Claire repeated Uncle Lamb’s words, grinning like fools as the three of them knocked their glasses together and let the bubbles slip down their throats. 

XxX

After drinking all of those bubbles, Sunday morning ended up being a lot slower going than Jamie had expected. There wasn’t any rush, as Jamie drove Claire, Lamb and himself to the Beauchamp’s resting place. Sitting in the passenger seat, Claire gripped two poinsettia flowers so hard Jamie had noticed her knuckles had turned white.

As he stood outside of the car, in the graveyard car park, Jamie reflected on how lucky he was. At 25, he’d attended his fair share of funerals and walked though a large amount of sacred ground, but he’d never lost somebody as close to him as close as Claire’s parents had been to her. The graves Jamie had visited were usually his grandparents and great grandparents – people he knew of, but have never actually met or formed a connection with. And after all was said and done, he still got to go home and hug his parents. He got to ring his Mam up, hearing her comforting voice at the end of the line and ask her advice about something. Sit in the kitchen, rocking on his chair as he had since he was wee, and watch his Mam cook and bake up a storm. Or walk outside the door and help his Da feed the animals, they might do it in silence, but at least he could feel his presence watching his back. Hear his Da cheer for his football team or pretend to fall over when Wee Jamie tackled him in the garden. 

All of these things Claire wouldn’t ever be able to do. And there wasn’t anything neither she nor anybody else could do to change that. Claire had been robbed of these experiences, and Jamie felt unbelievably guilty that he’d never expressed gratitude for still having his own family alive and well. They weren’t something to take for granted anymore. 

“Jamie?” Claire called, turning around and realising Jamie still stood by the car instead of walking into the graveyard as she and Uncle Lamb had. 

Jamie jogged to catch up with the two of them and grasped tight hold of Claire’s freezing cold hand as they slowly walked to where two headstones peacefully. Jamie decided it best to sit on the bench opposite as a sign of respect to give Uncle Lamb and Claire some time to see their family without a stranger intruding. Similar to last night, Lamb and Claire worked together as a team silently, until both headstones gleamed clear of any grass or mud and each displayed a beautiful red plant. Jamie could see Claire’s lips moving as Lamb laid a Christmas wreath, but he couldn’t work out exactly what she was saying. 

Leaving Uncle Lamb to stand, hands clasped together at the bottom of the graves, Claire walked the short distance to where Jamie sat. He hadn’t noticed before, but she wore the robin redbreast brooch her Uncle had bought her for her birthday, pinned onto the collar of her coat. 

Claire stretched out her hand for Jamie to take, and he did so gladly, before she led him back to where Lamb stood quietly. 

Claire tucked her chin into her chest and spoke softly aloud. “Mum, Dad, this is Jamie. Remember, I told you about him? I brought him along so you could meet him. I think you’d really…” Claire’s voice broke as attempted to get the words out. “…Like him. He makes me really happy, and that’s the main thing, isn’t it?” 

Jamie squeezed Claire’s hand as tight as he dared allow without breaking it. With his free arm, he tucked her into his side and kissed the side of her head. 

“I’m sorry I won’t be here to see you on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day…” 

Lamb gave a large, wet sniff and only then did Jamie register his own tears rolling down his cheeks. They made the cold bitter air sting his face even more than usual. 

“But, me and Uncle Lamb have decided to spend it with Jamie’s family for Christmas. I know you won’t be too mad at that. They’ve accepted me as one of their own, and I know for certain if you were here… you’d love them just as much as I do. Love and miss you both, always.” 

Claire brought her fingers to her lips and placed a kiss there. With the same fingers, she placed them on both headstones. Essentially giving a kiss to both of her beloved parents. 

Jamie cleared away the lump in his throat and wiped his tears before talking. “I’ll take good care of her, I promise,” He was unsure exactly who he was talking to when he said it. Claire’s parents and Uncle Lamb, yes, but also himself too. As Claire stood sandwiched inbetween them, Lamb had to reach around to squeeze Jamie’s forearm in a fatherly gesture, and then said his goodbyes.

“Goodbye Julia, goodbye brother. Merry Christmas to you both.” 

As they walked back to the car, Uncle Lamb hooked his arm through his niece’s and Jamie kept his arm tight around her shoulders. Claire’s grief would never go away, Jamie knew this. Time might heal over part of the wound, but something like that would never full leave a person. However, Claire would be kept safe between the two men in her life who cared for her and loved her the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters are coming thick and fast now! Chapter 23 should be up on Sunday! and the general consesis is to split the last big chapter into 2 parts - so all together this fic will be 26 chapters!
> 
> I'm very intrigued as to who you think will say I love you first, so tell me in the comments. Do you think it'll be Jamie or do you think it'll be Claire? all will be revealed very soon. 
> 
> xo


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

The Christmas countdown had officially begun. 

A couple days after they returned to Scotland from Oxfordshire, Claire and Jamie went Christmas shopping for the first time of the year. It was a momentous occasion, in Claire’s opinion. Not only because it was the first time she’d stepped into a shop and been greeted with an explosion of Christmas delights, including Christmas music being played over the speaker. But also, because it was the first Christmas event she and Jamie were doing together as a couple, just the two of them. 

First up on Claire’s Christmas agenda was buying a Christmas tree for herself. Because he’d lived in his cottage alone, longer than Claire, Jamie already had a fake Christmas tree and decorations to match it. Claire had no such thing, and it was very important that she bought one. 

“It’s meant to be!” She exclaimed once they’d gotten back into Jamie’s car. “Half price for my tree and it isn’t even broken! Aren’t you glad we went today instead of tomorrow?” 

The Christmas tree Claire had picked out was beautiful, Jamie had to admit. It stood at 6ft tall, dusted all over with fake snow and thankfully, had lights already built into it, so there would be no more bickering about the placement of those bloody lights. 

It took a few more days for Claire to be truly happy and content with the way her cottage looked for Christmas. Small ornaments were placed on flat surfaces, tinsel and garlands were strewn pretty much everywhere, and the amount of lights Claire had outside made her cottage easy to see from space. 

No matter how many times Jamie rolled his eyes playfully at Claire’s Christmas ridiculousness, he did have to admit she had done a very bonny job. Her whole cottage smelt of oranges and cinnamon sticks. And on an evening when it became pitch black outside, it was very cosy to be tucked up inside Claire’s living room surrounded by golden white sparkling lights. 

Currently, the two of them were tucked up together on the sofa. 

Jamie had cooked them a lovely homely meal of beef hotpot complete with buttery mash potato and a heaping of broccoli and green beans covered in just the right amount of butter and salt. Both of them had devoured their food on their laps while watching the beginnings of the Grinch who stole Christmas. 

By now, the dirty plates lay in the kitchen sink, ready to be rinsed and put away into the dishwasher. And the credits were rolling for the film. Jamie was surprised to see Claire still awake and blinking, she was notorious for falling asleep halfway through a film. But no, she was definitely still awake. 

“Ye all right?” Jamie whispered into her hair as she lounged about his chest, her legs all tangled up with his. “I’m surprised ye’re not snoring ye’re head off.” 

The tiny wrinkles at the corners of Claire’s eyes crinkled as she smiled up at him. “I’m just having such a good day with you. I don’t want it to end.” 

Jamie nuzzled himself down into her neck and huffed. “Ah, Claire, ye’re just too precious.” 

The upbeat soundtrack of the film played on in the background, the only sound in the room, until, “Jamie?”

“Aye?” He hummed, too busy moving the strap of her camisole to trail kisses over her collarbone and shoulder, to listen properly. 

Claire tilted her head to give him proper access while talking. “Remember when we went out to that restaurant for my birthday? And you asked me to promise you to tell you if I started to feel differently about our relationship?”

Jamie stilled, not even daring to inhale or exhale. 

“Well, I’m feeling different…” Claire turned around till her legs bracketed Jamie’s on the sofa and she sat on his lap. With delicate strokes she combed back a part of his fringe that he so desperately needed cutting, while staring into his eyes, never wavering, never breaking eye contact. “I’m in love with you, Jamie.” 

He let out a delighted laugh, the laugh a small child might make on Christmas Day when they saw Santa had been. 

“Say it again.” 

“I love you.” 

Grabbing the back of her head with one hand, Jamie brought Claire’s lips down onto his. He turned his head one way, and Claire’s another, to easily deepen the kiss using his tongue. Claire cupped his cheeks into both of her hands, running her thumbs along the high points of his cheekbones. 

“I love ye, too.” He said, pulling back to search her eyes and finding happiness twinkling in them. “ I love ye, Claire.” 

Claire’s breath was hot in his ear as she rested her forehead against him. “I don’t think hearing you say that will ever get old.” 

“I love ye, I love ye, I love ye.” 

“Fuck… I love you, too,” Claire moaned as Jamie tenderly held her breast in the palm of his hand. He felt her ground down and it felt so good, he couldn’t help flexing his hips up to chase hers. 

Sitting up tall on his lap, Claire grasped the lace hem of her lilac camisole and pulled it over her head. Her gorgeous curls bounced around her face as she threw the garment over the back of the sofa and out of sight. Jamie always thought she looked magnificent, but right now, she looked like a goddess. The golden Christmas lights reflected around them both, giving Claire’s bare skin a golden, ethereal glow. Her breasts stood out to attention, nipples an enticing light pink and hard. 

With a fingertip, Jamie traced the left hand side of her body. Starting at her collarbone, then moving onto the curve of her breast. He circled around her nipple, but never full touching it, much to Claire’s high pitched whine of dismay. He continued his path, feeling the heat and weight of the underside of her left breast, meet his fingers. Further down her body came the curve of her waist. Claire was a petite woman, no where near showcasing a hour glass figure, but she had just enough flesh around the dip of her waist for Jamie to sink his fingers into. 

“Jamie, please,” She pleaded. “Please, touch me.” 

“Touch ye where? Here?” Jamie circled her tummy button with his pointer finger. 

Claire cupped her own breasts and squished them together, making her cleavage look ridiculously good. Jamie placed his right hand onto her hand on her right breast, covering it whole. His hands were rougher than Claire’s as he squeezed, shoved Claire’s own hand aside and the pinched her nipple. 

She groaned throatily, head tipping back and hips bucking. 

“Ugh, Jamie… I love you so much… please, please, fuck me.” 

Jamie nipped at the tender skin of the underside of her breast, where he could tiny blue veins pumping blood through her body. “Only because I love ye, and ye asked so nicely.” 

The stretchy pajama pants and sans underwear Claire wore, made it very easy for Jamie to slip his hand into them and touch Claire’s hot bare skin. Using his thumb, he collected some of her natural lubrication dripping from her slit and dragged it up to circle her clit. The right amount of pressure plus the clockwise circles had Claire pushing her hips up to match his movements and then stuttering as her first orgasm of the night took over her. Being together for a couple of months now meant Jamie was pretty confident with knowing exactly which buttons to press to give his girlfriend a mind blowing orgasm, if he did say so himself. But this one in particular had happened rather quickly, and for a moment, Jamie wondered how long Claire had been anticipating this moment for. 

Still trembling, Claire stood up on bambi legs and shimmied her pajama pants the rest of the way down and off of her legs. Jamie could feel his cock pressing incessantly against his own tracksuit bottoms, and as he lifted his bum from the sofa and let them fall to his knees, his cock bobbed against his stomach muscles. 

As Claire sat back down onto his thighs, she stroked the ruddy head of his cock. A pearlescent bead of pre-come sat right at the tip, and Claire used her thumb to wipe it away. Jamie sat in a trance, watching Claire bring her thumb wet with his pre-come up to her mouth and then disappear between her two lips. Claire hummed appreciatively as she sucked it clean. 

“Get here now, ye minx.” With hands on either side of her hips, Jamie pulled Claire into him. She sat up on a tall knee, as Jamie guided himself inside of her. Claire sank down until he filled her to the hilt, and there wasn’t an inch of space left between them. 

Jamie bounced Claire on his lap, her curls and breasts bouncing up and down with the movement too. Placing her hands on Jamie’s shoulders for leverage, Claire pulled herself up and slammed back down, then swiveled her hips in a figure eight before starting the whole process over again. Claire felt like molten heat wrapped around Jamie’s cock and he hissed through his teeth as she writhed above him, searching for her own pleasure again. 

She reached down to pinch her own clit, and Jamie felt her inner walls clamp down around him and then relax. Knowing she would struggle to hold herself up and continue the rhythm while getting closer and closer to the edge, Jamie grabbed two fistfuls of her arse to help her move up and over him. The wet release from her first orgasm already painted Claire’s thighs, and now, it coated Jamie’s legs as he thrust up and pulled her down, all the while with Claire moaning incessantly. 

Her fingertips sped up, playing with her hard bud. Jamie only had a few seconds to get a tighter hold of Claire to stop her from potentially falling off his lap, before she was tucking her face into his neck and whining out her second release. 

Jamie continued thrusting up into her but shallower and at a much slower pace than previously. “Do ye think ye’ve got one more in ye, lass?” 

Claire muttered something intelligible. 

“One more for me, Claire. Just one more,” He stroked her hair gently. It was all a ploy, Claire thought. Be gentle now and then fuck her into a coma later. “On the floor, lass.” 

Claire slumped herself onto the floor, hands and knees meeting the plushy carpet. Twisting her head to look behind herself, she saw Jamie also getting to his knees on the carpet and whipping off his shirt – which Claire only now realised he’d been wearing this whole time. 

Jamie began with two shallow thrusts, before finding his rhythm and plowing into her over and over again. Claire stayed low of the floor, happy to let Jamie find the end to his own pleasure. But, surprisingly, she could feel the beginning of something stirring in the lower half of her stomach. 

She shook her bowed head as Jamie reached between her legs. Tears gathered at the corner of her eyes and her foot spasmed, toes curling and then relaxing, with how sensitive she felt and yet how good Jamie made her feel. “Jamie… I can’t…” She sounded broken to her own ears.   
“Aye, ye can. Relax, Claire, I’ve got ye. God, I love ye so much.” 

“I… love you,” Claire felt as if she were floating, no longer existing in a human body as her third orgasm tumbled through her. It was no where near as powerful as the other two, but still enough to make her body feel weightless. Too caught up in the flashing behind her eyelids, she didn’t realize Jamie had finished until he groaned her name, brokenly, mixed in with more love you’s. 

Not caring how rough the carpet felt on her skin, or how hard and uncomfortable the floor would be, Claire lay prone on her back. With bleary eyes she stared up at the ceiling, her chest still rising and falling rapidly. Jamie cuddled into her, laying his head on her bare breast. A mixture of sweat and come made Claire’s skin feel sticky, and she sighed happily as she felt the cold air kiss her skin and cool her down. She would have been able to cool down at a faster rate if Jamie hadn’t been lying on her, but she liked having him close to her. So rather than saying anything (she couldn’t have even if she wanted too, for her tongue felt like cotton wool), Claire ran her hand through his hair, until he closed his eyes and sighed, stretching out like a cat. 

The smell of sex in the air slowly began to dissipate, replaced by the light vanilla scent of a wax candle burning on the fireplace behind the two of them. 

“Ye had me scared shitless there, ye ken,” Jamie said, eyes still closed. 

“What do you mean?” Her words felt like toffee as she formed her lips around them. 

“I thought for a second ye were breaking up with me…” 

Claire tapped his protruding shoulder blade. “Oh, shush.” 

“Well, I thought ye were!”

“Aren’t you a silly goose then…” 

“Aye…” Moving slowly, Jamie propped himself up on his forearms and pecked Claire on her lips. “I’m so in love with ye, Claire, it makes me physically ache. I didn’t even ken it could feel like this.” 

“Mm,” Claire hummed, wrapping her arms up and around his neck. Her legs felt too much like lead to wrap them around his waist. “You’re a smooth talker, Mr Fraser,” she spoke against his lips and his nose nudged her own. “But the feelings very much mutual. Now kiss me again, please.” 

XxX

Three days later, Claire was, surprise, surprise at work. A place, which was soon becoming something akin to her second home. 

It had been a grueling shift. The surgery she’d been scheduled to perform in the morning had to be pushed back due to Claire’s assistant surgeon phoning in sick. This meant a scurry of trying to find another qualified surgeon, who was free, to be able to assist Claire in the removal of a man’s gallbladder. 

In the end, after much panic, delay and moving shifts around, Geillis was able to free her work diary for the day and assist her best friend. 

The gallbladder removal process overall took a lot longer than had first been expected. All together, the surgery lasted three hours – making Claire’s back ache and her thighs feel like they were currently on fire. But, no matter how long it took, in the end, everything looked as it should. The gallbladder had been removed, so the patient would no longer have to deal with excruciating pain due to the gallstones not being able to pass through the body correctly. And, Claire had managed to successfully remove it without leaving behind too much scar tissue – which, in some cases, could be quite painful to live with. 

With the patient wheeled back into the infirmary ward, ready to be woken up from their anesthetic and given some fluids, Claire and Geillis were free to take a break. As it was still fairly early in the afternoon, 3 o’clock to be precise, and they still had another four hours of their shift left, Geillis suggested the two of them go visit their favourite café for a bite to eat and a cup of coffee. 

Sitting down in a warm spot, a bowl of homemade soup and her best friend sitting beside her, sounded like heaven right now to Claire. So, she agreed with a grin on her face. But first, both of them needed to get cleaned up and out of these dirty scrubs. 

The surgery had been messy, as surgeries usually were, but this one more so than usual for some strange reason. It was part of the job to be messy, and covered in bodily fluids, so Claire wasn’t a stranger to having blood on her work clothes. It wasn’t a terrible thing; it just meant she’d have to put them on an extra high, extra cold wash cycle when she got home. Probably with some extra detergent thrown in there for good measure. 

Past the break room and past the row of lockers, stood a small room with a bunk bed inside of it. It had originally been built for surgeons who needed to take a nap while on night shift, but now it was often used for when you needed to change into a fresh, clean pair of scrubs. And so, the two women headed there, ready for a quick change and then to gulp down some hot food.

With a bundle each under their arms of their less bloody work clothes, Geillis flicked the switch to turn on the lights and locked the door behind the two of them. Claire wasn’t ashamed of her body, she never had been and certainly didn’t shy away from showing parts of her body that everybody else had too. Geillis… well, Geillis was just Geillis. She didn’t bat an eyelid to anything, nor did she care. Being best friends, and living together for a handful of months, meant stripping down to their underwear or even less in front of each other, didn’t even phase the two women anymore. 

Geillis whipped off her top first, leaving her in a white lace detailed bra with lavender flowers woven into it, while Claire unbuttoned her trousers and pulled them away from her hips. 

“What the fuck is that!” Geillis exclaimed, making Claire, whose head was now stuck in her top and couldn’t see anything, squeal in distress. 

“What is it? What is it? Is it a bug? Get it away! Get. It. Away!” Geillis did have to stifle a laugh at the way Claire, still with her top almost over her head, danced around away from the ‘bug’.

“Stop flailing about, will ye! There isn’t any bug!”

“Oh,” Claire huffed, finally free of the confines of her top and now able to see nothing near her feet or crawling up her body. Something tickled her cheek, and she batted it away quickly. Essentially, hitting herself in the face for the only thing tickling her cheek was a lock of static hair. Geillis snorted at her antics. “Well, what are you on about, if it isn’t a bug?” 

“I’m talking about the carpet burns on ye’re knees… Ye’ve always been quietly kinky, Claire – don’t think I don’t remember things ye’ve let slip when ye’ve been drunk.” Geillis winked lewdly. “But, I never ken Jamie had it in him. I’m oddly proud.” 

Claire was stuck between covering her face, or attempting to cover her red knees in embarrassment. The red hot feeling burning her insides must have shown on her face, because Geillis giggled. 

“Ye don’t need to be embarrassed in front of me, lass. Ye ken fair well what I get up too! But I do need ye to get dressed quickly, and then ye can fill me in on how ye got those carpet burns over a slice of victoria sponge cake.” 

No words would form, so instead Claire nodded silently and finished changing out of her dirty scrubs, kind of looking forward to spilling some of her well kept secrets to her best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello!
> 
> So, some of you guessed correctly!! Claire's a dark horse, i tell you lol. 
> 
> I do hope you all enjoyed, tell me all about it in the comments down below - because i would love to know!
> 
> See you all on Wednesday for chapter twenty four xo


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas eve antics at lallybroch!

Two days before Christmas Eve, Uncle Lamb drove up to Claire’s quaint cottage in Scotland, ready for the Christmas festivities to begin. 

At the beginning of December, Claire had made a list of items and tasks she needed to complete before the big days. The list included things like; tidy cottage, pick outfit to wear for Christmas Eve and Christmas day, pack for Lallybroch, purchase gifts, pack said gifts, etc. Over the course of the month, Claire completed the tasks one by one, giving herself a small tick and a sense of accomplishment when she did so. 

The presents had been bought for each member of the family and wrapped with care and attention. Claire had watched her fair share of Christmas films, making sure to include all the classics, and dragged Jamie into watching them with her. She’d even had time to try out the cookie recipe Ellen had sent her… Well, she’d tried to bake the cookies.

Rather, Jamie had distracted her by coming into the kitchen with his hair wet and his abs on full display. He’d tried to distract her when he’d come in all sweaty from the gym, but she’d turned a blind eye to his attempts. Jamie hadn’t let up though, and knew exactly what game he was playing, coming straight to Claire warm, wet and willing after his shower. 

Jamie had come up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the side of her neck, which always made her knees go weak. If that wasn’t bad enough, he’d pressed up against her back; so much so, she could feel his growing erection sitting in the cleft of her arse. 

They ended up shagging against the kitchen counter. Halfway through, Jamie accidentally put his hand in the bowl full of batter. And if that hadn’t been bad enough, he’d panicked with a hand dripping in raw batter, so instead of staying still, he proceeded to knock the whole glass bowl onto the floor. 

Safe to say, it had been a disaster and a half. The baking of the cookies, not the shagging. The shagging had been delightful, as always, if Claire did say so herself. 

Christmas landed on a Wednesday this year, so Uncle Lamb had made the drive up early on Sunday morning. This way, he got to get enough sleep, relax and spend some one on one time with Claire before they and Jamie travelled up to Lallybroch on the Monday. 

“Have you got everything ready and packed?” Claire asked her Uncle as they sat on the sofa, picking at a bag of fish and chips. 

He nodded, eyes fixed on making a chip sandwich. “Yes, don’t you worry your pretty little head, darling. Everything’s wrapped up and in my bag, ready to be put into the car. I even got two small something’s for the little children.”

“Oh, ye shouldn’t have,” Jamie had finished his own portion in rapid speed after a hard day a work lifting crates of whiskey from one side of the distillery to the other. His empty plate lay on the coffee table, while he changed channels to find the latest rugby match. 

“It’s not a bother,” Lamb replied. “There only something little, nothing massively expensive or anything.”

“Och, well thank ye. The bairns will be thrilled.” 

XxX

“Claire. Lass?” The deep, comforting tone of Jamie’s voice broke Claire out of the lovely dream she’d been having. “Ye gonna have to wake up Claire. We need to get up and dressed to leave for home. Mam will have our arses on a plate if we’re not there early enough…”

Claire burrowed further into the warm cocoon of the duvet. An arm snuck in and yanked her body till she was halfway down the bed. “Come on, up ye get.” 

Her eyelids felt like they were weighted down with concrete, as she attempted to crack them open. It took her two full attempts, and when she did so, Jamie’s sleepy face hovered above her sporting a soft grin. 

“Let’s go, Miss Drool. We need to get a move on, and ye looking all cute and sleepy isn’t helping the situation.”

Claire stretched out of her arm and patted Jamie’s empty side of the bed. “Surely you’ve got a little bit of time to come back to bed.”

She could see the cogs turning in Jamie’s brain as he calculated the time and thought about it, before shaking his head no. “Put away those bedroom eyes,” he said mock sternly. “Ye’re a witch tryna entice me like that, ye ken. I’m not falling for it… not today, anyway. Get that bonny arse of yers out of bed and into something comfy for the drive.”

Claire puckered her lips for a quick kiss. “As least get me a cup of coffee, please.”

Jamie obliged her, as he always did. “Already done, lass. But ye better hurry up before that Uncle of yers drinks it all. Because right now it’s going down like its nectar.” 

Jamie jumped off the bed gracefully, and Claire only had a short amount of time to give her thanks to the fitness gods for Jamie’s physique before he was back out the door. Following his instructions, Claire rolled out of the bed a lot less gracefully than her boyfriend had done. Half of the bed sheets ended up on the floor as she got tangled up in them on her way to the bathroom. Surely a clear cut sign she must stay in bed longer… 

No, no. If she didn’t get up now, Jamie would just come back and lift her away. On second thoughts, perhaps she would just stay in bed, if only to see him get a little riled up and touch her maybe a little too forcibly…

XxX

As it turned out, Claire took so long getting up, dressed and ready for the long drive that there wasn’t any time left for sexual antics. There wasn’t even time for a proper cup of coffee – what was left of it, that is. Jamie had saved her a smidgen, kept safe and warm in her trustworthy travel mug. 

Before she even had time to gather her thoughts, she was being ushered out of the door and into the car. 

“Are you sure you have everything?” 

Jamie glanced over to her, with only one of his eyebrows raised. “Of course I have, now strap yeself in properly, so we can set off.” 

The three of them had only gotten perhaps three quarters of an hour into the drive before Claire conked out again. The soft hum of the car engine beneath her, the warmth of the car heaters blasting on her face and the soothing presence of both Jamie and Uncle Lamb, mixed together into a delicious concoction until her eyes burned with the strain of holding them open. 

The first thing Claire noticed when she came back too was the sound of Uncle Lamb and Jamie talking quietly, so as to not wake and disturb her. The next thing she realised was the landscape outside had changed – they’d left behind the cold, but dry, street where they lived and now were surrounded by fields covered in a dusting of snow. It looked terribly inviting to play around in, but Claire knew looks could be deceiving and it would end up being freezing cold. 

The third, and last thing she noticed was how much she needed a wee. Jamie was right unfortunately, she really shouldn’t have drunk the dregs of her coffee and then never visited the loo. 

“You awake, darling?” Lamb asked, poking his head between the two seats to get a better look at his niece. 

Claire hummed her answer, licking her dry lips. “How far are we?” 

“Ten minutes away or so,” Jamie replied, giving her upper thigh a quick squeeze. “Why?”

The snow covered fields had passed by, replaced by country roads, where the snow had fallen and been pushed to either side of the cars to still drive through. “Need a wee.”

Jamie had a told ye expression written all over his face. “We’ll be there soon, don’t ye worry.” 

Although she’d only visited once, Claire found herself looking for the landmarks, which lay on the trail towards Lallybroch. She could feel the excitement begin to build in the pit of her stomach as the first landmark came up ahead of them; a centuries old, worn down, church. 

“That’s beautiful,” Uncle Lamb remarked as they slowed down to get a better look at the stone building. 

Jamie wound down his window, letting in a nice crisp gust of refreshing Scottish Highland air, as he did so. “My parents actually got married there.”

“Did they?” Claire said, shocked. “Your mother never mentioned anything about it.” 

“No, no, it was definitely this church. Because if ye go further up ye come to the turnstile…”

The turnstile was the second landmark in question to mark the secret road to Lallybroch. 

“My Da always tells the story of marrying Mam and then carrying her over the turnstile. They weren’t sure exactly where they were going to end up living together as a new married couple, ye see? And Da wanted to carry on the tradition and carry her over the threshold. But, he had no threshold to speak of, so he carried her over the turnstile instead.” 

It did indeed sound like something Brian would do, and something Ellen would agree to with a smile upon her face. Claire found herself smiling, involuntary, as she pictured the image in her minds eye. And then smiling even wider than she thought possible when she caught Jamie’s bright blue eyes and he winked at her. 

XxX  
The sight of Lallybroch the first time had caught Claire off guard, but the sight of it this time, with a thick layer of snow all around it, made her lose her breath. 

Jamie had always talked about Lallybroch having this magical quality, and Claire had certainly felt it the first time she’d visited, but this? This was something else entirely. 

The estate felt ethereal, like at anytime an angel might just float down from the sky. Lallybroch stood in the dip between two hills, far away from the nearest busy motorway. So, it was usually quiet, but then add in the snow to muffle even the tiniest noise of a braying horse or a tweeting bird… It was all silence, except for the satisfying crunch of the untouched snow as Jamie, Uncle Lamb and herself left the car and walked towards the front steps. 

With a sense of déjà vu, the two Beauchamps and Jamie entered the Lallybroch entryway, this time without the sound of tiny children. 

Jenny was the first person to come greet them, decked out in some blue monstrosity of a Christmas jumper. The pattern was awful, but at least it did bring out the colour of her hair and complexion. Claire told her so, as Jenny wrapped her arms around Claire’s thin frame. 

“Ye shut up, sister,” She rolled her eyes and then turned to Jamie. “Brother, Merry Christmas, ye eejit. And, ye must be Uncle Lamb.” Lamb was also treated to a Jenny hug, before he could even return her greeting. 

Jamie bounded up the staircase, taking with him the three travel bags containing Uncle Lamb’s, Claire’s and his own luggage. They left him to it, deciding to walk through the cosy living room and into the kitchen, to find the other members of the Fraser Murray household. 

Ellen, and perhaps Brian if she had managed to rope him in, had out done themselves with the Christmas decorations. A lovely traditional red, white and gold theme ran through the entirety of the bottom floor, and Claire would pay good money to bet the theme continued on upstairs as well. 

Already, the fire sat crackling away merrily in its hearth. The Christmas tree stood in front of the bay window, beside one of the sofas. It was so large and bushy Claire couldn’t believe she’d missed seeing it from outside when they’d exited the car. It was decorated with a mixture of baubles, some quite obviously sentimental; handmade by either Jenny or Jamie when they’d been younger. And then some purely used because they looked pretty and filled out the tree. A fluffy white skirt sat underneath the tree, already piled high with wrapped gifts of all shapes and sizes. 

More lights and ornaments could be seen as you walked towards the back of the house where the kitchen stood. Ellen had decorated Lallybroch just the right amount for Claire’s taste. Enough to tell it was Christmas and highlight some of the house’s best features, but not enough to feel cluttered or overcrowded. 

More hugs were doled out as Ellen let out a cry of delight at seeing Claire standing in the kitchen. Maggie, sitting at the table in her grandfather’s arms, practically threw herself out of Brian’s grasp as she tried her hardest to get to her Auntie Claire. 

Claire scooped her up, placing a hello kiss on the crown of head. 

“Do I not get a hug?” Jamie asked, coming back into the kitchen, standing by Claire’s side and sweeping his finger along Maggie’s rosy red cheek. In return, Maggie turned her head away from her Uncle and buried her head into Claire’s neck. 

“Ye’ve lost ye title as favourite, I’m afraid.” Brian said, getting to his feet. 

“Aye, Claire’s beaten ye,” Ellen swiftly kissed her son before turning to face Uncle Lamb. “Ye must be Lambert. It’s really nice to finally meet ye and put a face to the name.” 

“Yes, that’s me. Ellen and Brian, isn’t it? Well, thank you both so much for inviting me to spend Christmas with you all. Your home is gorgeous, like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” 

Jamie’s Mam blushed under the compliment, pulling out a chair for Uncle Lamb to take. “Have a seat and I’ll pop on the kettle. We can get to know each other a little better over a nice hot drink.” 

“Uncle Jamie! Auntie Claire!” Wee Jamie’s voice shouted, excitement colouring his whole tone. Claire peered up from where she’d been stroking Maggie’s back to see Wee Jamie and Ian standing in the side doorway, which led from the kitchen to the garden outside. Both Murray’s were covered in globs of melting snow, ears and tips of noses a ruby red colour. “We’ve been out playing in the snow! Da says when it gets heavier we can make snowmen! Will ye come out and help us?”

“How about later?” Jamie suggested. “Ye Da’s right, ye needed to wait until it’s deeper before we make the snowmen. Wanna sit and Grannie will make ye a hot chocolate?” 

Jamie leant over the kitchen counter, trying his best to be helpful, while Ellen bustled about the kitchen making a selection of warm drinks. Everybody else lounged about the kitchen in a relaxed state of matter, happy to be reunited once more and this time for the festive period. 

Jamie placed Claire’s cup of molten hot chocolate down in front of her at the oak table. She gave him a silent smile of thanks before raising it to her lips one handed and taking a tentative sip. Ellen, being the goddess in the kitchen that she was, had heated up the milk perfectly to make it drinkable, while ensuring all of the powdered hot chocolate had dissolved and none of it lay like a sludgy mess at the bottom of the mug.

With Maggie on her knee and Jenny standing chatting Lamb’s ear off in her broad Scottish accent, Claire practiced gratitude (an exercise her therapist had highly recommended). Gratitude for sitting in Lallybroch’s warm kitchen, surrounded by Uncle Lamb and all the other people she loved. Gratitude for feeling safe and comforted in this present moment. And gratitude for Jamie, for introducing her to his people without a second thought, and always being there for her no matter what. 

As if he could hear the thoughts spinning through her brain, Jamie slid his dry palm against hers under the table. His thumb caressed her knuckles gently, in a back and forth motion. Claire basked in the sensation of having him close, taking a second to focus on the weight of his hand heavy in hers before centering herself and coming back to the sound of mindless chatter. 

XxX  
Christmas Eve Eve passed by in a flash. Much to Wee Jamie’s dismay, it didn’t snow, not nearly as much as he wanted and definitely not enough to build a snowman. He settled instead for tormenting his younger sister and running around causing havoc. 

Ellen designated tasks to everybody else throughout the day. There was still cleaning to do ready for Santa Claus to arrive, including the setting of the table. The Christmas pudding needed another few lashings on brandy poured onto it. And, when the children eventually did fall asleep, some more of their gifts needed wrapping ready for Santa to place them under the tree. 

Claire had been run off of her feet all day.

She and Jenny had taken it upon themselves to dust and hoover upstairs while Ellen set the table. Ian and Brian took Uncle Lamb under their wing, as if he always spent Christmas with them. The three men did the usual rounds; mucking out and feeding the horses, and also checking on and feeding the other farm animals. As she was upstairs dusting, Claire had opened one of the thick paned windows – to let fresh air in and the dust motes out. Noises from outside floated up and through the window until they met Claire’s ears. She could hear the wheels of the old wooden wheelbarrow trucking its way over the slightly snow covered flagstones of the courtyard. The last time she’d peered down below, Ian had been pushing the heavily laden wheelbarrow, but who knows whether Uncle Lamb or Brian had taken over. Inside the cart lay chopped wood and twigs to feed the fires situated throughout the rooms of Lallybroch. Extra wood had been collected as Jamie’s Godfather Murtaugh was expected to arrive tomorrow just in time for the big day, and also so nobody had to venture out over the field to the shed where the wood was kept. If it snowed as much as the weather lady reported, then it might not even be possible to reach the shed, so any extra wood they could get would be a massive help.

Depending on which way you looked at it, Jamie either had the long end or the short end of the stick. He’d volunteered to babysit Wee Jamie and Maggie – making sure to entertain the bairns and keep them away from under the busy feet of everybody else. Multiple times, Claire overheard the excited shouts of Wee Jamie as his favourite uncle chucked him up in the air. 

Speaking of Jamie… “How’s it going in here?” His voice spoke from behind her as he entered one of the guest bedrooms where Claire was busy dusting and folding towels. 

Claire finished replacing the last photo frame perched on the windowsill, before turning around his face her gorgeous boyfriend. Tiny Maggie lay in his arms, eyes closed so her enviously long eyelashes brushed down to the apple of her cheeks. Hearing her Auntie approach, Maggie perked up a bit and cracked open her eyelids. She peered up at Claire with a sleepy but content expression written upon her baby soft face, before closing her eyes once more. 

“I’m just about to put her down for her afternoon nap,” Jamie explained, hefting Maggie up on his chest a little bit higher. “I think playing trucks with me and Wee Jamie tired her out, and she started to get a wee bit cranky, so…” 

“Good idea,” Claire agreed, staring down at the innocent child laying happily in Jamie’s grasp. “She’s as cute as a peach.” 

“Aye, that she is.” 

The heated stare from Jamie’s eyes had Claire moving her attention away from the sleeping child and up up up until they caught on Jamie’s brilliant blues. Rather than hiding it, he kept his soft expression etched as plain as the day. Smiling, Claire pressed her lips to his swiftly. 

“I’m almost done here,” She gestured with the dusting cloth in her hand to the surrounding room. “And before I start on the next room, I’m going to make a cup of tea. Do you want one making too?”

Jamie nodded. “Aye, please. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” 

XxX

Weariness made itself home in Claire’s body when she woke up the morning of Christmas Eve. She’d cleaned her little heart out all of yesterday, the hours just whipping past her, and before she knew it, it had been time to put her head on the pillow. 

Today, hopefully, but would be a lot less active. Less running around like a head less chicken and more time to sit on her arse and mindlessly watch the telly with Brian and Uncle Lamb cracking silly jokes in the background. 

From the moment she walked down the wooden staircase, still in the pajamas she’d fallen asleep in and without a brush even meeting her hair, Claire could feel the excitement running throughout the house. Naturally, the children were beyond excited from Santa Claus and his eight tiny reindeer to visit and leave them presents. But the Fraser and Murray adults were just as excited. 

Walking into the kitchen, Claire was greeted with the sight of Ellen dancing about the kitchen, apron already pulled on and a bowl full of batter in the crook of her arm, while her husband stood off to the side laughing at her antics. At the sight of Claire in the doorway, Ellen grabbed her by the forearm and dragged her to join in the dancing. Claire recognised the catchy tune of Mariah Carey’s all I want for Christmas is you blaring through a speaker sitting on the small table. The whole scene felt so strange but so right at the same time, and Claire threw her head back in laughter as Ellen spun her round and round.

Ellen let her go with a puff of her own laughter, and Claire grabbed onto the back of a chair to wait for the room to stop spinning quite so fast. 

“Morning to ye, Claire,” Ellen said, a beaming smile on the features. “I’m guessing Jamie isn’t up yet?” 

Claire shook her head. “No. He’s being a lazy bag of bones.” 

“Well, he better get as much sleep as he can the now. Wee Jamie’s been up since the crack of dawn, already asking if the snow had fallen and when could they all get up to go out and play in it. The bairn’s hopping off the walls and Santa hasn’t even been yet.” 

“Bless him,” Claire cooed. “Has some snow fallen then?” 

“Some snow?” Ellen asked. “Some snow ye ask? Here’s snow for ye, lass.” Crossing the kitchen, Ellen unlocked the side door entrance and pulled back the sturdy door. A chuck of ice white snow tumbled over the threshold with a splat! Moving away from the table, Claire walked over to stand closer to Ellen. She gave silent thanks for the invention of under floor heating and to herself for remembering to wear a dressing gown this morning. The hills and fields belonging to Lallybroch were coated as far as the eye could see with snow. It whitened everything out with its cold, crisp blank white canvas. 

“Has Wee Jamie seen it?” Claire craned her neck around the corner to see if the well-beaten track leading down to the henhouse was also buried. It was.

“Aye. Squealed like a wee piglet, surprised it didn’t wake ye or Jamie up, because it certainly woke the rest of us up. Jenny’s upstairs with him now, trying to get him into his snow suit before he goes running outside in it.” 

“I bet that’s going fun,” Claire giggled as Ellen pushed the door back closed and the cold draft stopped flowing in. 

“Aye, bet it is. I’m sure she’ll shout for our help if she needs it. Now, ye wanna come and help me make pancakes for our breakfasts?” 

XxX

Ellen had been exactly right, as always. 

The moment Wee Jamie came bounding down the stairs dressed head to toe in his snow suit, and saw his Auntie Claire wide awake and in the kitchen he shouted happily and began tugging on her hand. 

“Come on, Auntie Claire! Let’s go build a snowman!”

Jenny walked slowly behind him, she too, was dressed ready to face the bitter cold and Maggie who sat placidly in the arms was also wrapped up in many layers. 

“I’m sorry about him, Claire,” She said apologetically. “Wee Jamie! Stop bothering ye Auntie Claire right now!”

Wee Jamie glanced at his Mother once, before yanking again on Claire’s arm. 

“What did I just tell ye, ye wee nutter? Don’t make me tell ye again. I mean it, Wee Jamie! Do it one more time and ye won’t be going outside to play at all!” 

Wee Jamie reluctantly let go of Claire’s hand, and moved away to ask his Nanna for a drink of water. 

“Bairns driving ye up the wall, Janet?” Jamie asked, followed by a huge yawn. 

He shuffled further into the kitchen, wearing nothing but a flannel pair of pajama bottoms and a pair of slippers. Standing beside Claire’s chair, where she dutifully sat cracking eggs into a bowl, he stretched his thick arms above his head. His back muscles flexed and Claire got momentarily distracted. 

“How on earth can ye be tired?” Jenny said, giving her younger brother a filthy look. “And why don’t ye have a shirt on? Aren’t ye freezing?” 

“I’m too warm,” Jamie said, bending down to steal a kiss from Claire. “God, Mam, what temperature have ye got the heating on?” 

Ellen opened the side door again with a squeaking of the hinges, picked up a chuck of snow and threw it at her son. It landed on the left hand side of his ribs and he yelped as the freezing cold snow met his too warm skin. 

“That’ll cool ye down,” Ellen replied. 

Claire laughed herself until she felt sick at his betrayed expression, as if he couldn’t believe what his own Mother had just done to him. Everyone around her continued to laugh at Jamie, but Claire found herself stopping. Too mesmerized by the way the snow melted and dripped down his toned body. Her hawk like eyes followed the liquid drips as the laughter surrounding her died down. 

“Can we go play in the snow now?” Wee Jamie asked, impatience colouring his tone. 

“Drink up ye milk lad,” Jamie ruffled his nephew’s brunette locks. “I’ll run upstairs and get dressed and we can go out together, aye?” 

Wee Jamie nodded, eyes fixed on his uncle like he was the best thing to ever exist. “Are ye coming Auntie Claire?” 

It was the hopefulness in Wee Jamie’s voice, which made her nod her head yes before she even had a chance to think about how cold it would be. “Of course I will. Shouldn’t take me a minute to get dressed.” 

In tandem, Jamie and Claire ran through their morning routines as quickly as possible so as to not keep Wee Jamie waiting too long. Even a few minutes could seem like a lifetime to a small child, especially when it came to something they were really ecstatic about. Jamie had finished getting dressed first, no surprised there as it was him who usually hogged the sink and made Claire stand about telling him to get out of the way. Rather than going back downstairs without her, he sat on the chaise lounge at the bottom of the freshly made bed. Claire could feel his eyes silently following her movements as she went about picking out something very warm and easy to move about in and shucking her pajamas off. 

She’d just pulled her knickers up over her knees, when, using the full length mirror in front of her to her advantage, she saw Jamie come up behind her. The front of his body pressed flush with her back, and he used one hand to fiddle with the lace hem of her knickers and the other hand to cup her bare breast. 

Okay, so maybe she had pranced about the room semi naked just to see his reaction. And what a reaction she was getting. The cheeky smile on Claire’s face faded into a sigh as Jamie twisted her nipple with a little bit too much force to be accidental. 

“Ye ken exactly what ye’re doing, Beauchamp, and it’s gonna get ye in trouble one of these days,” He whispered deep in her ear. His eyes met hers in the mirror and never moved.

Claire bit her lip to stifle a moan as he tapped his finger over her gusset covered clit. “What kind of trouble? Hm?” Her head lolled back onto his shoulder, body heavy and sinking most of her weight until Jamie’s body was the only thing holding her up. 

“Don’t start something ye canny finish, lass. Wee Jamie is waiting downstairs for us.” 

Claire ground her arse on his semi hard cock. “When he’s older, he’ll understand.” 

“Aye, that he will,” Jamie chuckled low in his throat. “But for now, he’ll just be pissed. If we don’t hurry up, Jenny’s gonna ken something’s up and she’ll come barging in. Don’t think she won’t, believe me, she’s done it before.” Claire felt his body shudder and ripple through her, as he was remembering a very unpleasant time when his own sister had walked in on him. 

She turned around till her breasts brushed against the material of his waterproof jacket. “Later then?” She asked, batting her eyelashes in a portrayal of innocence. 

He raised one eyebrow. “This innocent act isn’t gonna work with me, Claire. I’ve seen and heard ye do some pretty dirty things that can never be forgotten. But aye, lass, later. I’ve been a good boy, I’m sure ye’ll let me unwrap my present early. Won’t ye?”

By the time the two of them stumbled down the stairs, this time with Claire wrapped up in actual clothes; Wee Jamie wasn’t even in the kitchen. Ellen still stood at the stove as if she’d never moved, dutifully stirring something in a pan. Jenny could be found at the table, sitting peacefully without any children surrounding her. With her chin cradled in the palm of her hand, she winked at her brother. 

“Thought I was gonna have to come a knocking again.”

Jamie scoffed, letting go of Claire’s hand to pull on a glove. “Nothing was happening, Janet, we weren’t doing anything. Anyway, we were only gone ten minutes top.”

“A lot can happen in ten minutes,” Jenny said, a glint of mischief apparent in her eyes. “Last a lot longer than some men, I’ll give ye that brother.” 

Claire smothered a giggle as Ellen barked out a laugh, peering over her shoulder to get a look at the son’s face. 

And what a look it was. Jamie’s face had turned bright red, even his ears. If his neck and chest had been visible, those too would be a red mottled colour. He opened his mouth once or twice like a fish, trying to come up with an answer to his sister’s crude conversation. 

He settled for saying, “Mam ye need to wash Jenny’s mouth out with carbolic soap for saying such vulgar things. Now, where’s Wee Jamie?” 

Jenny just rolled her eyes dramatically. “He’s gone outside. Lamb came downstairs as ye two were –“ she put bunny ears around the next words “- getting ready and offered to take him and Maggie.” 

“If ye don’t shut up, I’ll box ye ears in.” Jamie threatened. Jenny laughed so hard she had to clutch at her stomach to stop a stitch from forming as tears rolled down her face. “Right, that’s it. Don’t say I didn’t warn ye, Jenny.”

Before Jamie had time to launch himself at his annoying sister, Wee Jamie stuck his head in the doorway. “Uncle Jamie, what are ye doing? Come on! Uncle Lamb says there’s enough snow to try and build an iglaloo!”

“Ye mean an igloo?” His Nanna asked.

“That’s what I said, Nanna! An iglaloo! Come on Auntie Claire, let’s go before Maggie eats any more of the snow and there isn’t any left to make snowballs out of!”

XxX

In Claire’s opinion, there wasn’t any better way to be spending her Christmas Eve than being outside in the snow. Uncle Lamb and Jamie had just begun the construction of the igloo or the iglaloo (however you wanted to pronounce it), and Claire was happily chasing after Maggie when Ellen called them all back in for their pancake breakfasts. 

Again, the main table in the dining area had been set spectacularly. With a stack of steaming fluffy pancakes sitting in the middle and an array of accompaniments – maple syrup, golden syrup, cut up chucks of banana and red berries and even some chocolate chips - surrounding it. 

Brian, Ian and another dark haired man already sat at the table, helping themselves to tea, coffee and orange juice. 

Seeing her walk into the dining room, Brian gestured to the only man at the table that she didn’t already know. “Claire, this is Jenny and Jamie’s godfather, Murtaugh. Murtaugh, this is the famous Claire.” 

Murtaugh pushed back his chair, emitting a loud squeak as he did so, and stood up to greet Claire properly. “Ah, the famous Claire! It’s good to actually meet ye, lass, rather than hear about ye from this eejit.” Murtaugh grabbed his godson into a headlock and ruffled up his already messy hair. “How on this God’s green earth did ye pull someone as bonny as ye’re Claire here? Eh, lad?”

Jamie scuffled jokingly with his godfather as every body else seated themselves at the table. Jamie won out in the end, landing a quick punch to Murtaugh’s ribs and making him gasp with breathy laughter.

“Good for ye, lad.” His godfather praised. “Of course, only because ye learnt from the best.” 

“Can ye two stop fighting?” Ellen snapped, and tilted her head to the only empty chairs. “Sit down and eat ye breakfasts, will ye, before it gets cold. I didn’t slave over the stove for ye two to complain about having cold pancakes.” 

As Murtaugh and Jamie sheepishly sat back down at the table, Uncle Lamb also introduced himself with a cheery smile. Questions flowed over the pancakes as Murtaugh got to know Claire and Uncle Lamb more, and Claire hadn’t even finished clearing her plate by the time Wee Jamie was asking permission to go back out in the snow again. 

“I’ll take ye lad,” Murtaugh volunteered, chugging down the last of the coffee in his teacup. “Maggie, lass, are ye coming too?” 

Sitting up in her highchair, Maggie shook her head no, too entranced by putting strawberries in her mouth, turning them to mush and then spitting it back into her hand. 

One by one, everybody peeled away from the table after they’d finished eating. A stack of empty, dirty plates built up into a tower in the kitchen sink, and as Claire passed by on the way to the toilet, she asked Ellen if she wanted any help with the washing up. 

“Och, no, ye fine lass. I’ll do it and look after Maggie while ye all go play in the snow.”

Claire clung to the doorframe. “Are you sure?”

“Aye,” Ellen waved her away. “Off ye go. Go and have some fun.”

If it was possible, by the time Claire stepped back outside after using the loo, the temperature seemed to have dropped even further. 

Jamie laughed good naturedly at her while she stood there and shivered. It didn’t matter how many layers she wore underneath her thick coat, the cold felt like it had buried itself deep within her bones. 

He tapped the ruby red tip of her nose with his snow covered glove. “Ye just need to run about Claire and get ye blood pumping.”

“Aye, call yeself a doctor?” Ian teased. “Don’t ye ken ye need to keep moving to stay toasty?”

Claire was just about to open her mouth and let out a mocking reply, when she felt something very cold, wet and mushy slam down on her temple. She turned to see Jamie standing closely beside her, grinning cheekily, snow falling from his hand that dangled by his side. Ian barked out a laugh and stepped back a couple of times. 

“Think ye’re in for in the now, Jamie,” he chuckled. 

“You are so dead,” Claire whispered, picking up a fistful of snow herself and pulling back her arm. She was milliseconds away from throwing it right in the middle of his face, when Jamie forcibly grabbed her by the waist and tackled her to the hard ground. Claire grunted as most of the air was forced from her lungs by the sheer weight of her Scottish boyfriend. 

“Think again, lass,” He whispered back, placing a feather light kiss on her lips. 

Claire managed to wrangle her arms from between their two squished bodies, and used her hands to press down on Jamie’s shoulder blades and effectively keep them pinned upon each other on the ground. This time it was she who leaned up slightly to kiss him. Jamie obliged her, letting the kisses get a little bit too hot and heavy for someone who was surrounded by immediate members of his family and a little boy to boot. 

Claire opened her mouth, sliding her hot tongue against Jamie’s. She could taste the coffee he’d just drank not an hour ago. 

Jamie pulled back to stare into Claire’s eyes, finding them glazed over and getting darker and darker by the second. Her lips were plumper than usual because of all the kissing, and they parted as she panted. 

“All’s fair in love and war, I’m afraid lass,” Jamie said aloud, and lightening fast he grabbed another ball of snow and smashed it into Claire’s partially open mouth. She coughed and spluttered, before looking up at him with murder in her eyes. 

“Jenny!” She yelled. “Grab your brother’s arms and I’ll get his legs! He’s being an arse, and he needs to be taught a lesson!”

XxX

And so, almost all of Christmas Eve was easily spent outside messing around the Lallybroch estate. They build igloos and snowmen and have a numerous amounts of snowball fights. Claire couldn’t remember a Christmas where she’d honestly felt so free. 

Ellen’s dinner of beef pie was quickly scarfed down, as everybody rushed about to jump in a scalding hot bath or shower. 

It was a tradition in the Fraser/Murray household to receive a new pair of pajamas on Christmas Eve after you’d gotten clean and ready for bed. A neat pile of silk pajamas sat on the bed, as Claire stood in the middle of the room cursing herself for wearing so many bloody layers and the time it was taking to get them off of her body. She treated herself to a pampering bath, hissing through her teeth as she sank down low in the hot water. 

Body and hair all nicely scrubbed clean and moisturised, Claire shimmied her way into her new pajamas. The silk texture of them felt glorious on her skin and the fit just perfectly on her frame – enough to look stylish and put together but also enough to hide the fact she’d done nothing but snack all day inbetween running around chasing the two Jamie’s. 

Once downstairs, Claire settled herself onto the sofa tucked into Jamie’s side with Uncle Lamb sitting beside her. He, too, was also decked out in a new pair of sleep clothes. 

Ellen dished out mugs full of hot chocolate with mountains of whipped cream decorating the top and tiny pink and white marshmallows hidden underneath. 

“We always watch a Muppet’s Christmas Carol on Christmas Eve,” Jenny explained as Ian fired up Netflix. She nodded to Claire and Uncle Lamb. “Is that alright with ye two?” 

“Of course it is,” Lamb nodded. “So long as you don’t get scared this time, Claire.”

“Ye used to be scared of a Muppet’s Christmas Carol?” Jamie asked, not even attempting to smuggle the laughter apparent in his tone. 

“Maybe.” Claire mumbled into her hot chocolate. 

“It was the ghosts that used to scare her,” Uncle Lamb explained, with a smile also painted across his face. 

“Well, they’re scary!” Claire protested. 

Jamie laughed even harder and smacked a kiss onto her freshly washed hair. “Don’t ye worry lass, I’ll protect ye from the scary ghosts.” 

XxX

As the film ended and Scrooge brought a turkey to tiny Tim’s house, Claire had to fight with herself to keep her eyes open. Wee Jamie lay asleep on the other sofa after tiring himself out with pure excitement for tomorrow. His head lay on his Mother’s lap while Jenny smoothed his hair away from his forehead. Claire found herself oddly jealous of him. Maggie had been put to bed hours ago, after putting out Santa’s milk and cookies, and the carrot for the reindeers, of course. 

“From the way ye’re eyes keep closing, I’m gonna guess ye’re ready for bed,” Jamie observed. 

“Take her up to bed, son,” Ellen said. Claire cracked her eyes open enough to see her quietly collecting the empty mugs. “Merry Christmas Eve, Claire. See ye bright and early in the morning lass.”

Brian, Murtaugh, Jenny and Ian also whispered a goodnight to her, careful not to disturb the sleeping child in the room. 

A whiskery cheek pressed itself again her own and without opening her eyes, Claire knew instantly it was her Uncle Lamb. “Merry Christmas Eve, darling. Sweet Dreams.”

“Love you,” She mumbled sleepily. 

“Love you too, my darling Claire. Now off to bed with you both.”

It felt like Jamie was supporting her whole weight as he practically carried her up the stairs and placed her under the covers. He disappeared for a moment, and Claire heard the toilet flush and the tap water running, before the bed dipped with his weight to signal he too was getting into bed. 

He wrapped his body into the contours of hers, hard muscle meeting soft curves. 

“Sorry for falling asleep,” Claire muttered, trying to stifle a yawn. “I know you wanted to have…” It was no use. Her mouth open wide and she yawned around the word, “sex.”

Jamie pinched her hip through her pajama bottoms. “Shut ye mouth ye silly goose. I’ll just be waking ye extra early tomorrow morning to collect my gift before anyone else wakes up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello :)
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this chunk of a chapter!
> 
> xo


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire lets Jamie unwrap one of his Christmas presents early... filth ensures.

It could have been down to a number of factors, which made Claire wake up extraordinarily early on Christmas morning. It could have been down to the fact she’d fallen asleep pretty early on last night and her body had simply decided it had gotten enough hours. It could have been because, as a surgeon, she was used to waking up at strange hours for work. Or, it could have been sheer excitement at the prospect of the day ahead. 

Claire had checked the time on her phone when she’d first cracked her eyes open. The bright blue light had blinded her at first, but her eyes had soon gotten used to it and Claire had been able to see it was only 5:31 in the morning. 

The small sliver of light that could be seen around the outline of Jamie’s blind was still pitch black. Claire flopped back onto her pillow and listening to sound of her own heartbeat. Her ears strained to hear for anybody else awake at this hour, but nothing reached her. 

Lying on her back with her hands over her stomach, Claire fiddled about with the stitching of the duvet cover, as she let her mind ponder over what might occur today. Jenny had whispered to her yesterday that Santa Claus would be bringing the electric car Wee Jamie had asked for and the doll’s house Maggie wanted, so Claire knew the children would be bouncing off the walls when they walked downstairs in a few hours. 

Focusing on the rise and fall of her stomach as her therapist had taught her, Claire let herself feel proud of herself. Right then and there, in this present moment. 

She was proud of herself for a number of things - her career being the biggest one. But, currently, she was also really proud of herself for getting out of the horrible Frank situation and allowing her heart to open again and let love in. Jamie let out a relaxed sigh beside her, and Claire had the overwhelming urge to lean over and kiss him senseless. However, he looked so peaceful asleep, dreaming of God knows what, so Claire settled for snuggling herself into his shoulder. She buried her head underneath his chin, and inhaled deeply, taking as much of Jamie’s natural scent with her as she could. 

It was the change of rhythm in his breathing that first alerted Claire that Jamie may be starting to wake up. His eyelids stayed closed, no sigh of those cornflower blue irises yet. But the hand resting on her lower back shifted a little, until he began rubbing her back in long stokes, from the base of her coccyx to the nape of her neck where her baby hairs lay. 

“Are you awake?” Claire asked, her voice sounding deep and raspy due to not using it for a number of hours. 

Jamie hummed throatily. 

Claire placed a kiss to his Adam’s apple and then in the center of his stubbled chin. “Merry Christmas, Jamie.” 

He cracked open one eye to look down at her and then buried his face in the mass of her unruly curly hair. His breath was hot against the shell of her ear, as he whispered back, “Merry Christmas to ye too, Claire.” The heat made her involuntarily shiver and her whole body became tingly. It reminded her something rotten of just yesterday morning when he’d pinned her up against the mirror and made some filthy promises. 

“What time is it?” 

“Half five, almost six.”

Jamie nodded once and closed his eyes again. The only light in Jamie’s old bedroom was emitted from a bedside lamp and it cast a golden glow over Jamie. The glow made his already fiery hair burn even brighter, and it made his side profile look statuesque. Claire traced her pointer finger over the sharp curve of his nose and then his pronounced cupids bow. 

“I can hear ye’re brain ticking away, Claire. What are ye thinking about?” 

“I’m thinking whether you’re too tired to unwrap your present, or not?” 

At that, his eyes flew open. Jamie grabbed hold of Claire’s hips and in one fluid moment placed her cowgirl style on top of him. Their lips met in a tangled frenzy, fighting for dominance to see who would cave in first. 

“I want to be in front of the mirror like yesterday,” Claire said, rocking her hips down into Jamie’s fast growing erection. 

Jamie groaned, feeling the blood leave his brain and travel southwards to his cock so quickly it was leaving him lightheaded. “Why, Claire? So ye can see yeself split open wide, legs thrown over both my shoulders, while I lick ye’re little clit?”

The aching in Claire’s stomach travelled down to her cunt, at the picture Jamie’s words painted in her mind. She could feel herself getting wetter and wetter and wouldn’t be surprised if there were a growing wet patch on the crotch of her new silk pajamas. 

Jamie thrust up into her, while Claire gripped her own breasts through the thin material. “Ye have to tell me so I ken, lass. Is that what ye want?”

“Fuck yes, Jamie,” Claire moaned loudly and then slapped her hand over her mouth. For a moment there, she’d forgotten exactly where she was and who was about. 

“Ye’re gonna have to be quieter, lass. Only good, quiet girls get what they want, okay? Now go sit on the chaise lounge.”

Carefully, so as to not kick him in anywhere important, Claire swung her leg off of Jamie. Her feet met the cold, wooden floorboards, and she walked the five steps to the end of the bed. 

“Take off ye’re pajama bottoms and sit on the edge.” 

Claire did as she was told, her bare bottom touching the velvety softness of the suede material. She looked up from underneath her eyelashes as Jamie also left the bed, and kneeled down onto the floorboards in front of her. 

His thick fingers danced along the outside of her thighs, tracing the silvery stretch marks that decorated her skin. “Open ye’re legs for me, Claire.” 

Never taking her eyes off of his, Claire tilted up her hips and opened her legs. In a bid to help her, Jamie grasped a hold of her bony ankles and threw them over either of his broad swimmer like shoulders. Wasting none of their precious time together, Jamie dipped his head and pressed the flat of his tongue against Claire’s pulsing clit. Her fingers moved of their own accord, gripping at the strands of his hair. She cradled the back of his head, essentially keeping him and his magic mouth, exactly where she needed it to be. Jamie sucked one of her labia into his mouth before the tip of his pink tongue probed her opening. His lips made a smacking sound, which echoed off the thick walls, as he lapped up her essence pouring out from her weeping slit. 

Claire threw her head back until it collided with the back of the chaise lounge. She bit down on the back of her hand, doing her best to stifle her ever growing moans and groans as Jamie gave her sensitive clit two kitten like flicks. 

The combination of it all was making Claire’s blood thrum fast through her veins. She’d been on edge all day waiting for this exact moment, and the thrill of having to stay quiet or be found, had the hot coil in her stomach unraveling faster than she could have ever had thought possible. 

“Jamie… God, I’m going to…”

Her thighs clamped strongly around his ears as wave after wave of pleasure ran rampant through her body. Claire had to breathe hard through her nose to stop from screaming her throat hoarse. Jamie kept up with the swirling of his tongue around her bud, making the orgasm go on and on, until she had to physically push him away. Her legs closed weakly as he removed his head from between her thighs. 

Claire pulled Jamie up until their faces were level. Jamie kissed her like a man starving, and Claire could taste the heady taste of herself as they snogged sloppily. 

“Ye taste so sweet, lass,” Jamie murmured against her lips before tilting his head to suck her nipple into his wet mouth. “Ye okay?” 

“Yes,” Claire sighed dreamily.

“Good. I want ye from behind, Claire. Go and stand facing the dresser.” Jamie instructed. 

On unsteady legs, Claire did as she was told. The mahogany dresser in question stood right beside the full length mirror against the middle of the wall. 

“Put ye hands flat on it, and arch ye back. Don’t move.” 

The cold wooden dresser met Claire’s delicate hands as she placed them down flat on the top. She stuck her arse out, feeling the cold of the air meet the still wet center of herself. Peering into the semi darkness over her shoulder, Claire watched as Jamie shucked off his trousers and came up behind her. The heat radiating off of his chest made its self home up her back, as he gripped the thick flesh of her right thigh. 

“Widen ye legs,” Jamie said. He placed her right thigh and knee up and up, until it too, lay on the flat top of the dresser. Claire felt thoroughly exposed in the best way possible as he opened more of her up for his enjoyment. 

XxX

The sight of Claire’s lithe figure spread out and open had Jamie groaning through his clenched teeth. 

Using his left hand, he stroked the base of his cock all the way to the head and back down again in a well practiced motion. The fingers tips of his right hand ran through Claire’s slit, finding her still wet and wanting. Positioning himself at her opening, Jamie kept Claire steady by pinning her hand down to the dresser. In one full thrust Claire enveloped him – her smooth, warm walls taking him in deep. Jamie took a deep breath as he got used to the feeling of Claire all around him. Something he was pretty sure he’d never get used to no matter how much time passed. 

He could feel her pulsing around his cock and took that as his sign to move. 

Jamie built up his thrusts, pushing his cock as deep into Claire as he could as he chased the euphoric feeling. Claire let out a broken sob, messy curls and perky breasts bobbing about with his movements. 

“Turn ye head. Look at us, together, in the mirror, Claire.” 

Her amber eyes faced his head on in the mirror as she saw what Jamie had been looking at all along. He thrust out, until just the tip of his cock remained and then slammed back in, taking care not to be too rough and make the dresser rattle against the wall. That would be sure to wake the whole entire family. 

Reaching round her hip, Jamie toyed with her hard clit. He draped his chest over her back and bit into the ball of her shoulder. A sheen of sweat covered Claire’s body as Jamie rutted into her like a wild animal. As he kissed the back of her neck, Jamie could taste the salt erupting out on his taste buds. She shivered when he puffed out a breath softly, the whispy curls at the base of her neck swaying in the small breeze. 

“Are ye gonna come on my cock, lass? Eh? I can feel ye’re little cunt throbbing around me.”

Claire’s eyes rolled into the back of head at the filthy words pouring out from Jamie’s wicked mouth. 

He kept up the steady pace, focusing on drawing tiny circles around her clit and never faltering until Claire was coming on his cock with a choked sound. She drew him in, keeping him deep inside of her. Her neck strained as she laid her head upon her arms, swallowing those noises of pleasure that he so usually wrung out of her. 

The flesh of Claire’s arse jiggled enticingly against his lower stomach as he moved quickly inside of her toward his own orgasm. Jamie couldn’t decide if he wanted to look at her slick slit taking in his cock or at the sight of her body stretched out and pleasure stricken in the mirror. 

“I want to suck you off,” Claire whispered, her eyes using the mirror image to fixate on the sight of his cock plunging in and out of her sex. “I want you to come down my throat.” 

Christ. Who was he to say no to a request like that? 

It was an effort to convince his brain and his natural animal instincts to give up Claire warm wet sex for her mouth instead. Jamie’s cock was achingly hard as he slipped out of Claire. He watched, hypnotized, as his beautiful girlfriend spun around and got down her knees. 

Her tiny hand grasped the base of his cock. Her long, piano playing fingers still weren’t able to meet around the thickest part of him. Keeping his cock steady, Jamie watched transfixed as Claire opened her mouth wide and stuck her pretty pink tongue out. He jolted forward a bit, a spike of hot electric shooting through his veins as his sensitive tip lay heavy on Claire’s tongue. 

She laved at his frenulum, before wrapping her lips around him fully. 

“Christ, Claire…” Jamie groaned, hands down by his side, curled into two tight fists. 

Claire’s eyes looked up at him. The light from the lamp made them look glassy and hazy with pleasure. She swallowed more of him. That damned tongue twisting, turning and tracing the blue vein underneath his cock. Heat was pooling in his lower back, paralyzing his legs so he couldn’t move. 

From halfway down his cock, Claire worked her way back up to his tip. He popped out of her mouth with a wet sound, and a thin strand of saliva connected his cock to Claire’s lips as she took a deep breath in through her mouth. Before Jamie even had time to compose himself and try to stave off his orgasm, Claire’s warm mouth was back on him. And this time she managed to swallow even more of him, using her hand to cover the rest of his cock that wouldn’t fit in her mouth. 

Claire’s head bobbed quickly, as she sucked and then withdrew – teasing him, until only his last resolve remained. 

As she pressed small kisses to his tip, treating it like a lollipop, every muscle in his body tightened up. His balls drew up, feeling ridiculously heavy. As if she could read his mind, Claire cupped his balls with her spare hand. She rolled the soft skin together; creating such a delicious friction that Jamie had to touch the top of Claire’s head with his palm, gently, to get her attention.

“I’m no gonna last much longer, lass. Ye need to decide if ye’re swallowing or not.” 

Keeping her gaze directly on his face, Claire kept up the suction of her mouth, never losing speed. Her curls bobbed so bonny like around her face, and Jamie had the sudden urge to run his fingers through them and feel them tumble through his fingertips like water. Using both of his hands, Jamie gathered all of Claire’s hair at the nape of her neck into a makeshift ponytail. His hands moved with the movement of her head, back and forth, back and forth, over his cock. 

“Claire, lass… I’m… shit, I love ye.” 

Letting out a quiet rumble of pleasure, Jamie felt his balls draw up and his seed spill out into Claire’s waiting mouth. She swallowed everything he gave her down, without choking or batting an eyelid. 

God, she was getting way too good at that for her own good. 

She dabbed delicately at the corner of her mouth, catching any seed left there. Jamie winced slightly as he heard Claire’s knees crack as she stood up. She smiled smugly at him, before wrapping her arms around his bare back, the softness of her breasts pushing up against his chest. Claire tucked her head underneath his chin and let out a content sigh. Jamie kissed the top of her head once, before swaying softly with her in one spot. 

“So, was your present worth unwrapping early?” Claire asked, breaking the silence a couple of minutes later. 

“Aye, definitely lass. Don’t think I could have waited until later on to unwrap ye.” 

Claire giggled quietly. She rose up on her tiptoes and coaxed Jamie in for another heart stopping kiss. “I love you so much,” she whispered against his lips. 

Jamie tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “I love ye, too. Can’t wait until we’re back home, alone together, and we can do that again. But louder.”

Claire shook her head while trying not to laugh. “We’d better get showered and dressed before the children wake up.” 

“Aye,” Jamie agreed, caressing her shoulder blades. “I had a shower yesterday, so ye can just hop in.” 

“Nuh, uh.” Claire’s wandering hands squeezed his bum cheeks, while her face stayed serene and innocent as always. “You smell like sex, Fraser. Get your arse in the shower.” 

He winked. “Yes, mistress.” 

XxX

As Claire switched on the shower and stepped inside the shower tray, Jamie tried to follow in behind her. 

“Absolutely not,” Claire said, placing both of her hands on his chest and gently pushing him out of the shower. “You’re not getting into the shower with me right now. We won’t get out if you do, and we need to be ready quickly. Wee Jamie won’t be best pleased if we make him wait to open his presents, because we’re not dressed.” 

Jamie raised his hands in defeat. 

“Fine,” He said, walking over to the sink and beginning the process of brushing his teeth and face, all while being stark naked. 

Jamie could feel Claire’s stare burning into his arse and the muscles in his back pulling as he leaned over the running tap to reach the toothpaste. He was about to turn around and make a cheeky comment to her, when a knock sounded at the bedroom door. Grabbing the first thing he had to hand, which turned out to be a towel – Jamie wrapped it tightly around his waist, before opening the door. 

His father stood on the other side of the door, already ready to face the day. Brian had dressed in his best dark blue waistcoat, with a pure white starched shirt underneath. His black trousers had been pressed within an inch of their life – all down to his Mam, Jamie knew. 

“Merry Christmas, my lad,” Brian said, giving his only son a crooked smile. “Ye Mam sent me to make sure ye and Claire were up and getting dressed.”

“Merry Christmas to ye too, Da.” Jamie nodded. “Aye, we’re both up. Claire’s just in the shower now. We’ll probably be about twenty minutes.”

“Fine by me. Wee Jamie hasn’t even woken up yet, so we’ve got some extra time. Pretty surprising what with how excited he was yesterday, but I guess he tired himself out in the snow. Right, I’ll leave ye both too it. Knock on our room when we’re ready and we’ll go downstairs together to see if Santa’s been.” 

No matter how old he got, Da always talked about Santa Claus to Jenny and Jamie as if the jolly red man was still real. 

Jamie chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Aye, of course, Da.” 

“Who was it?” Claire asked as Jamie walked back into the steamy bathroom. 

“Da,” Jamie answered. “Just making sure were up and getting dressed.” 

Claire nodded and stepped out from the underneath the scalding hot spray. She walked, soaking wet and dripping water everywhere, towards Jamie and grasped the hem of the towel on his waist. 

“I’ll have this, thank you,” she said, pulling it away from him until his cock was bared to her once more. Jamie stood still, eyes focusing on the water droplet hanging from her right nipple. Cold air brushed about his thighs, as Claire wrapped the towel around herself, brushing the water droplet off before it could hit the floor. 

Jamie watched Claire flit in and out as she got ready for the day. She paraded in, in just her dressing down with half a face of makeup on. A few minutes later she was back, this time with her hair in a messy updo – a few curls framing her face. Claire didn’t notice Jamie staring; she was much too busy messing with the cups of her lace bra, essentially giving Jamie his third eye full of the day. 

When he finally did emerge from the bathroom, drying his hair with the edge of the towel, Claire sat on the side of the freshly made bed. 

“What ye doing?” He asked, sneaking a quick kiss on her cheek. It was hard to resist when her skin was butter soft from the shower and the powdered makeup she had used. 

“Just texting Geillis and Mary to wish them a merry Christmas. I think Geillie might suggest us all going out for New Year’s Eve.”

Jamie rifled through his bag containing his clothes as he listened to Claire. “Do ye ken where my green shirt is?”

“Bottom of my bag, you couldn’t fit it into yours, remember?”

“Och, aye, thanks.” Jamie moved his attention to carefully removing Claire’s clothes, in order to get to his green shirt sitting, folded, at the bottom of her bag. “Tell Geillis that sounds like a plan, I could invite the boys and we could all go to a pub down the road from ours or something?”

Claire clacked away on the keys. “I’ll mention it to her.” 

With shirt in hand, Jamie returned to the bathroom to spray some deodorant. He could hear Claire rustling about and humming Santa Baby underneath her breath. 

“Jamie? Will you help me with this?” She called.

Last bit of hair semi gelled into place; Jamie went to answer his girlfriend’s call. 

Claire stood facing him, her attention focused on trying to open the claw clasp of a golden necklace. Jamie drank her in from head to toe as he got a proper look at her. Claire’s makeup had been delicately applied, nothing too heavy, but just enough glitter on her eyelids to make her whiskey coloured irises stand out. The brooch of the two decorated robins, which Uncle Lamb had gifted to her, sat proudly displayed above her breastbone. Tiny gold hoops hung from her eyes – jewellery which would probably match the necklace she wanted to wear around her neck. The only other jewellery she wore was the bracelet Jamie had given to her for her 30th birthday two months ago. His heart hammered wildly in his chest at the image of her wearing it so proudly and for everyone to see. 

Her petite figure was encased in a red and white polka dotted dress. It had short capped sleeves, enough to keep her warm but leave most of her toned arms bare. The v neckline was modest enough but still showed a hint of cleavage, especially if you looked down at her from the right angle. The soft jersey material nipped her in in all the right places and fell to just above her kneecaps. 

“Have ye got something to cover ye legs?” Jamie questioned, taking the thin golden chain away from her. “Ye might be cold, otherwise. Turn around for me, lass.”

Claire spun around, the scent of her perfume and body spray mixing together and wafting over his nostrils. Her hair was already out of the way, so all Jamie had to do was thread it over her head and clip the necklace into place. 

“Yes, I’ve got something. Don’t you worry your pretty little head. Thank you,” She said, once Jamie had finished clasping the ends together and tapped her shoulder to signal he’d done it. 

What a vision in red. Jamie thought. 

Claire moved fluidly through his childhood bedroom and it occurred to Jamie, as she removed what appeared to be a pair of sheer black tights from her bag, that Claire moved gracefully like that a lot. She would often joke that she wasn’t as graceful as getting on a horse, or getting out of bed as him, but Jamie noticed in everyday life Claire managed to look at one with her movements. Perhaps it was down to her job, being aware of her body’s movements and the bones and muscle bending into shape. Or perhaps…

Jamie got sidetracked from his thought process when Claire put her right foot into the denier material. At first glance, he’d thought them to be tights, but Jamie was fast realising that they were stockings. And the last time Claire had worn stockings… Well, that had ended up with him peeling them off of her and then mounting her…

Claire caught his eye, meeting his gaze head on as she rolled the stocking up and over her shin, and then up and over her knee. She had to push aside the material of her dress to hold the lace hem of the stocking up on her thigh. 

“You’re evil, woman.” 

“And you’re drooling, Fraser.” She snapped the other stocking into place in the same teasing manner that she’d done the first one in. Slinking, like a cat, she stood up and pressed her body up against the front of his. Claire gripped the lapels on his button up, pulling his face down and closer to her own. Her minty breath washed over him as she spoke. “We really need to get going, but maybe if you’re good today, I might let you unwrap another present tonight.”

Jamie shook his head in disbelief before gliding his lips over her glossed covered one. “I better be on my best behaviour then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday all :)
> 
> On this exact date, five months ago, i posted the first chapter of this story. How fitting that it's drawing to a close and the second to last chapter had been posted on the same date. The last chapter will be up tomorrow!
> 
> Enjoy xo


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Day at Lallybroch.

Dressed and ready to face the day ahead, Jamie knocked on his parent’s bedroom door, while Claire sprayed on last spritz of perfume. Ellen opened the door, a waft of hairspray following her. 

“Good, ye’re ready! I think we’re all dressed now, and we can go downstairs.” Ellen raised her voice a little as she called, “Jenny? Are the bairns ready?”

A squeal of delight from Wee Jamie could be heard over Jenny, promising they would all be dressed in less than five minutes. 

“Merry Christmas, you two,” Claire said to Brian and Ellen as she tucked herself in Jamie’s side. 

Ellen gasped at how lovely Claire looked, fawning over her hair, her makeup and her dress. “Don’t ye look bonny, lass!”

Claire glowed under the compliment. “Ah, thank you. You look beautiful yourself.” 

His Mam laughed, the lines around her eyes crinkling even more so than usual. She spun good naturedly in a circle, showing off every angle of her new dress as it swished around her knees. 

When the troops had finally assembled themselves, Ellen let them walk down the stairs. The adults wished each other a Merry Christmas as Wee Jamie flew down the stairs in search of presents left from Santa Claus, and tiny Maggie attempted to keep up with her older brother. 

Jamie heard Uncle Lamb wish his niece a very merry Christmas as he looped his arm through Claire’s and kissed her on the cheek. Jamie remarked how smart the archeologist looked wearing what appeared to be a new pair of dark purple corduroy trousers and a suede suit jacket with elbow patches that didn’t have loose threads hanging from them. 

It did go to show how well behaved Jenny had taught her children to be, as Wee Jamie and Maggie waited, bouncing up and down on their toes, for their parents to tell them they could begin unwrapping their gifts. 

The moment Jenny gave the go ahead, Wee Jamie ripped into the biggest one with his name on it. Tiny Maggie needed a little bit of extra help, but still let out a gummy smile when a stuffed rabbit toy was placed into her chubby hands. Ellen bustled away into the kitchen, while Jamie found a Christmas music playlist and set it to play in the background. A couple of minutes later, Ellen came back into the living room, a platter of toast with lashings of butter spread onto it, lay on two serving plates. 

“Help yeselves,” she said, gesturing towards the toast. “I’m gonna start making hot drinks. Who wants one?” 

A chorus of voices asking for a cup of tea or coffee mingled together. 

“I’ll come and help you,” Claire offered, standing up and walking through the mess of wrapping paper that Wee Jamie had already made. “Jamie? Do you want to help?”

In the kitchen, while Jamie and Claire made the hot drinks for everybody, Ellen started preheating the oven ready for the turkey, roast potatoes and vegetables to be cooked in. The Christmas dinner would be served at around 1 in the afternoon; this would give them plenty of room to continue snacking and eating leftovers well into the evening. Ellen had started her food prep over the course of the days leading up to the 25th, meaning most things were ready to be popped into the boiling hot oven, and Ellen would have time to spend with her family. 

By the time the three of them walked back into the living room, carrying one tray carried with the various mugs full to the brim and another holding a variety of biscuits, the mountain of wrapping paper had doubled, if it was even possible. 

“Thank ye for the action figures, ye two,” Jenny said, reaching up and taking her intended mug as she tilted her head to where Wee Jamie and Ian sat on the carpet unboxing a number of plastic figurines. “What do ye say, Wee Jamie?” 

Wee Jamie spoke through the tongue he had poking between his upper and lower teeth as he concentrated on moving the action man’s arm. “Thank ye, Uncle Jamie! Thank ye, Auntie Claire!”

Claire had set down the tea tray and taken her seat right beside her Uncle Lamb. Wee Jamie sat in front of her, and she smoothed down his hair in a familiar gesture as she said, “You’re very welcome.” 

Jamie bent his arm under the tree until a gaudy Christmas wrapped present reached his fingertips. 

“For ye, sister,” he said, handing it over to Jenny and then sitting down on the other side of Claire. 

Jenny shook her head, her brunette hair cascading over her shoulder with the movement. “Ah, brother, ye shouldn’t have. But thank ye. Maggie, do ye wanna help Mam open her gift?” 

The sound of more gifts had Maggie making her way over to her Mam and pulling herself up using Jenny’s knees for support. Jenny let her grasp one end covered in sellotape, while Jenny held the other and together Mam and daughter tore open the wrapping paper. A soft scarf fell out, the silver threading woven through it, making it appear like a stream of water sat over Jenny’s lap. 

Jamie’s older sister gasped in delight as she ran her fingers over the butter soft material and then laced it behind her neck. “Och, ye two, it’s so bonny! Thank ye so much!”

“You deserve it, Jenny,” Claire said, smiling. 

One by one, more presents were exchanged and opened. For once, the two bairns sat placidly, playing with their new toys from Santa without shouting, screaming or trying to attack one another. 

Jamie sat quietly, watching Claire light up and glow as she received presents from his family members. Jenny and Ian had saved up and splurged to buy Claire her three favourite candles from an expensive brand. His Mam and Da had purchased some more new pajamas for her and the honeysuckle bubble bath she’d adored so much. Ellen had gone so far to buy her multiple bottles, just as Jamie knew she would, and also the sets – so Claire could have every body product you could image, in the same enticing scent. Murtaugh had bought her an amazon gift voucher, always a safe bet. And finally, her Uncle Lamb bought her a box of her favourite chocolates and a brand new pair of trainers. 

Recently, Claire had been complaining about her old trainers being worn out. Jamie hadn’t been surprised. She wore the same pair pretty much every day for work and what with all the walking she did the tread on them had begun to disintegrate. 

Claire flung her arms around Uncle Lamb and pressed a kiss to his cheeks. “Thank you so much, Lamb.” 

“You’re very welcome, darling.” 

The only presents remaining underneath the Christmas tree with Claire’s name written on them were from Jamie. Ellen piled the handed them out to her as she opened them one by one. 

First, Jamie had bought her a jar of her new favourite moisturizer. 

“£50 that! What’s in it? Gold?” Jamie asked, as Claire fawned about the packaging. 

“Well then, you can get your hands off it, and stop secretly using the one in my bathroom cupboard, when you come over.” 

“He needs all the help he can get, with a face like that,” Ian joked, pointing out the slight laughter lines that had made themselves home around Jamie’s eyes and his mouth. 

Jamie gave his brother in law a shove. “Shut ye trap, before I shut it for ye.” 

The second present Claire unwrapped was a strange shape, soft and squishy. She held it up to her ear, rattling it, to perhaps hear the gift inside. 

“What on earth have you bought me, Fraser?” Claire asked, fingertips a blur as she ripped into the paper with a ferocious nature. 

A lump fell out onto her lap. Pushing the wrapping paper aside, Claire held up the lump for everyone to see. 

“Tartan!” Ellen exclaimed. 

“It’s a shawl,” Claire said, wrapping the fabric around her shoulders. It draped perfectly. Covering just the right amount of her upper body, but not enough for it to be classed as a jacket or a coat. 

“Ye’re always complaining that ye cold.” Jamie gently pulled out the loose tendrils of Claire’s messy bun that had escaped, out of the material around her neck. “So I picked out a tartan shawl for ye. It should keep ye warm, especially when we’re up here.” Jamie gestured around with a swirl of his wrist. “And now ye look like a proper Scottish woman.” 

“Is it the Fraser colours?” Claire questioned. 

Jamie nodded. “Aye, it is. Ye can tell because of the slight blue running through it, remember?” 

Claire’s lips curled up into a beaming smile. 

“Thank you, Jamie. I love it.”

“I’m glad, lass. The material isn’t too itchy, is it?” He reached out to touch the material himself. Rubbing it between his thumb and pointer finger to test whether it would be uncomfortable sitting on bare skin.

“No.” Claire promised. “It feels wonderful. And I can already feel how much this keeps the heat in.” 

“Ye look extra bonny in it, Claire.” Ellen smiled, and then nudged her husband with her elbow. Brian started in his chair by the fire, clutching his ribs where Ellen had poked him. 

“What, woman?” He muttered, much to everybody’s amusement. 

“Doesn’t out Claire look extra bonny in her Fraser tartan shawl? It brings out the colour of her hair and the paleness of her skin, don’t ye think?” 

Brian nodded, agreeing with his wife. “Aye, ye look lovely, Claire.” 

Claire dipped her head in thanks for the compliment. Even if Ellen had had to force it out of him. “Thank you, you two.” 

The third and last present sat on the sofa cushion to the side of Claire. Jamie had purposefully wrapped it so hide the actual shape of the gift; otherwise it would have been obvious as to what lay inside of the small black box. 

Surprisingly, Jamie didn’t feel sick to his stomach with nerves, thinking about Claire receiving his gift. Rather, he felt calm and excited to see her reaction. Jamie had thought long and hard about what to give to Claire for Christmas. She’s asked for the specific face moisturizer, and the shawl had seemed perfect as soon as he’d laid his eyes upon it. But a third gift had stumped him for a long time. After the bracelet he’d gifted her for her 30th birthday, Jamie knew he wanted to gift her something to get the same reaction. Something which would be meaningful to the both of them. Something which would prove their relationship, was moving in the right, forward direction. 

Jamie had toyed with the idea of giving her a key to his cottage, but Claire already knew where the spare key was hidden and nine times out of ten, she was already with him when he opened his front door. 

So then, he’d pondered about asking her to move in with him. Or, bringing up the conversation of Jamie moving his items into her cottage. The thoughts had run wild through his brain for a while, but they’d come to a halting stop when Claire begun attending her therapy sessions. 

To say Jamie was proud of Claire would be an understatement. He was proud of her for standing up for herself. He was proud of her for leaving, what appeared to him to be a toxic relationship, and taking control of her life. And he was proud of her for dealing with her mental health issues head on and deciding to ask for some professional help. 

As best as he could, Jamie had stood by Claire. In all honesty, he’d not had much experience with mental health disorders, but he was damned sure he was going to try his hardest to learn about them for Claire’s sake. The more therapy sessions Claire attended, the more she came home with different techniques and explanations for the reason her brain acted the way it did. 

During an offhanded conversation a couple of weeks ago, Claire had mentioned that she’d been talking to her therapist about how much she liked spending her spare time with Jamie, but also how much she enjoyed having a space that was completely and utterly her own. Jamie could see where she was coming from. For so much of her life Claire had lived with other people, never really having time to live by herself and enjoy all the things that came with it. 

Then and there, he’d scraped the idea of asking her to move in. Claire still wanted to have her own space, something, which was obviously beneficial for her mental health, and Jamie was more than happy to keep moving at her pace. 

So, he was back at square one again. 

When Jamie looked back on their relationship now, he could see that fate had gone out of her way to bring Claire and himself together, without the two of them even knowing about it. Claire’s third Christmas gift was just another aspect where fate had taken it into her own hands. 

Jamie had simply been flicking through his phone, while he’d been on a break at work from answering annoying emails. An idea formed in his head - a combination of things he’d seen before, until it formed together to make the perfect gift for his Claire. 

As if she knew this present was more special, Claire took her time unsticking the sellotape and peering inside the pocket of wrapping paper. Her face took on a confused expression as she pulled out a small, matte white bag. 

Claire pulled the bow apart, reaching inside, until she pulled out a small, square, black box. 

Like a blanket of snow falling outside, which muffled the sound of nature – the entire living room fell silent. Even the popping in the fire simmered down to a slight crackling. 

Claire looked at him with her lips parted, mouth open. 

“It’s not an engagement ring.” He spoke aloud to the quiet room. 

Just like having her own space, Jamie knew Claire wasn’t ready for another engagement quite just yet. She wasn’t ready to shackle herself to another man and call it love. Some may think it strange or weird. Some may not understand. If Claire was as in love with Jamie as she said she was, well then, why didn’t she want to be engaged to marry him? 

Jamie didn’t take it personally. He knew her thought process how nothing to do with how much she loved him. Healing wasn’t a linear process. It wasn’t something you could snap your fingers and be cured of. You had to keep at it everyday, pushing your boundaries and rewarding yourself for being your authentic self. Some days were bad, some days were good, and some days were just inbetween. 

Claire was still healing from those internal wounds and trauma. And Jamie had vowed to stay by her side, no matter what, whether she had a wedding ring on her finger or not. 

Claire nodded her head jerkily, cracking open the black box with a loud squeak of its hinges. A ring did indeed sit in the center of the box. It was delicate and silver, matching the chain material of her bracelet. But rather than a gemstone sitting cushioned in the middle, an infinity symbol took center stage. 

Pulling it out of the cushion, Claire held it up to the sunlight streaming through the two big bay windows behind the Christmas tree. The ring gleamed enticingly. And the light hit the inside of the ring just so, making Claire able to clearly see the engraving Jamie had gotten etched into the precious mental. 

21-08-2020 

That was the engraving scratched into the inner band of the ring, the date Jamie remembered seeing Claire for the first time, all those months ago. 

“It’s the date I first saw ye. And I knew, ye ken…” 

Claire turned her head to look at him fully, and Jamie got a glimpse of a film of tears covering her eyes before she blinked hard and they disappeared. “I love it. Thank you.” 

Not caring who was looking, and whether Wee Jamie would scream about how disgusting it was that adults were kissing, Jamie pressed his outer thigh to Claire’s and kissed her lips softly. She smiled, heartbreakingly so, and Jamie drank in the sight of it – committing as much of this moment to memory as humanly possible. 

Jamie reverently ran his thumb over her folded knuckles. “I hope it fits. Ye’ve got insanely thin fingers, ye ken that?” 

Claire laughed. “I know. Bane of my life.” 

Holding the ring with two of her fingers, Jamie held his breath audibly, as he watched Claire position the ring over her ring finger on her left hand. 

“Ye don’t have to,” he said, as she slipped it over her painted nail and then a tad further down. 

It stayed in place, just above her knuckle, as she met his eyes and said, “I want to wear it here. Is that all right with you?”

Jamie nodded once, silently. Cornflower blue eyes met whiskey as Claire pushed it the ring down until it sat perfectly at the base. 

He let out a shaky, unsteady breath. Claire gripped his hand tightly, and he could feel the sensation of the cold ring marking his skin. How unfamiliar it felt, and yet so right, so them. 

Ellen clapped her hands in excitement, bringing Jamie out of his and Claire’s bubble. 

“Let’s have a look then, lass,” his Mam said, leaning almost out of her chair to get a closer look at Claire’s newest piece of jewellery. 

As Claire unlaced her fingers with his, and held out of hand to show off her ring, Jamie could imagine how it would feel when eventually Claire would be showing off her real engagement ring and then her real wedding band. It filled him up, like a balloon, with joy at the pure thought of it all. But, what filled him up with more than joy (if it was even possible), was the thought that Claire didn’t seem to be as afraid of the idea of an engagement, as he thought she would be. 

XxX

Call Jamie biased, after all it was his Mam, but in his humble opinion Ellen had outdone herself with the Christmas dinner this year. 

The presents from Claire to everybody else still remained under the tree, but they would have to wait until the food had been devoured. 

Ellen had set the table, making sure to include the red and gold theme, which ran through the entire Lallybroch estate. Most of the delicious food was put onto massive platters and then placed in the center of the table. This made it easier for people to help themselves to whatever they wanted and leave what they didn’t like. As Brian stood at the head of the table, carving the succulent turkey into thin slices, everyone else began heaping spoonfuls onto their fine china plates. 

In one dish lay the vegetables. Sprouts, broccoli, cabbage, carrots and cauliflower all thrown together with copious amounts of butter covering them. Another dish held the potatoes; both mashed and roasted. Pigs in blankets, Yorkshire puddings and roasted chestnuts with bacon pieces sat in the center, taking a heavy dint in them as everyone dug in. Cutlery clinked against the dishes as they helped themselves, and glasses chimed high pitched as the Fraser’s, the Murray’s and the Beauchamp’s said cheers to one another. The thick gravy sat in two different antique gravy boats, and before long it had all disappeared as it was slathered over the turkey meat. 

After the main course had been devoured, and everybody had time to digest, Jamie’s Mam brought out a homemade raspberry cheesecake. No matter how full they felt, a slice of cheesecake was doled out to everybody and clean forks were picked up once again. 

With stomach full to the brim, they slogged back to the living room, basking in the heat of the fire like cats. 

“I’m thinking perhaps we can finish opening the rest of the gifts and then change into our pajamas for the evening?” Ellen suggested, plumping up a pillow to stick beneath her head. “We could even watch a film later on, since there isn’t really anything that good on the telly?” 

A mumble of agreements rose up. 

The last presents remaining under the tree were gifts from Claire herself. Jamie had helped chip in on the ones for Murtaugh, his parents and for Jenny and Ian, but he had no clue what she’d purchased for her Uncle Lamb, or even for himself. 

Unwrapping their presents, Ellen received an expensive hair care set and Jenny a perfume set, which Claire had seen the two women pining over the last time they’d gone on a girly shopping trip together. 

A running joke ran through the household about whiskey. Particularly, whether Oxford whiskey was as good as Scottish whiskey. Murtaugh, Brian, Ian and sometimes Jamie argued of course it wasn’t – but Claire wasn’t to be beaten. So, for Christmas she’d bought the three men a whiskey tasting set, all the way from a small, family run distillery down in Oxfordshire, for each of them. Complete with three different bottles of flavoured whiskey and a fancy, engraved glass to pour said alcohol liquid into. 

Uncle Lamb unwrapped a new brown, leather travel bag monogrammed with his initials L.B. Jamie knew it must have cost a pretty penny, but it would come in handy. Especially, as Jamie had seen the state of Uncle Lamb’s previous travel bag with the stitching coming away and the handle practically falling apart at the seams. 

Uncle thanked his niece, hugging her tightly and kissing the top of forehead. 

The bairns had opened their gifts from Jamie and Claire early in the morning, so the only present left to give was from Claire to Jamie. 

He unwrapped a new bottle of his daily aftershave, and a brand new green t-shirt. Claire had expressed before how much she liked him in green, something about how it brought out the blue in his eyes and the red in his hair – so Jamie wasn’t really surprised to learn she’d bought him a green item of clothing. 

The last two square items lay in his lap; one large, and one small. 

Jamie opened the small one first, and a brown leather wallet fell out. Similar to the travel bag she’d purchased for her Uncle Lamb, Claire had bought her boyfriend a new wallet to keep his money and his cards, safely in. The inside of the leather material was also inscribed with his initials J.A.M.M.F in gold. 

Jamie ran the pads of his fingers over the leather, feeling how buttery soft it appeared to be on the outside, with a suede material on the inside cover. “Och, Claire, thank ye.” 

He saw Claire beam with pride. 

She collected the scraps of rubbish, and nudged the last present with his name written on it, to him. 

Putting the wallet safely inside the pocket of his slacks, for safekeeping, Jamie pulled apart the cream bow in his hands. A wooden picture frame fell out heavily, the glass of the frame rattling ever so slightly. A photograph of Claire and himself, their faces and bodies smushed together tightly, stared back at him through the glass. 

He could remember, vividly, this picture being taken. 

As the last of the summer heat died down and autumn took up her reins, he and Claire had taken advantage of the change in season and gone on a short hike. They’d talked along the way about how the weather seemed to be stuck in this loop – half summer, half autumn – not quite sure what it wanted to do with itself. The two of them had hiked steadily, and when they’d reached the top of the biggest hill, Jamie pointed down to show Claire the sights of Scotland from above. Claire had oohed and aahed in all the right places, asking him questions about Scottish history and cuddling into his side as she caught her breath. 

At one point, he’d peered down at her. Claire’s workout leggings and bra lay like a second skin, and the light jumper she’d brought along the way hung across her waist. The baby hairs escaping from her scraped back ponytail, stuck to her forehead with sweat. The tip of her nose had been bright red, from exertion or from the cold, Jamie never knew. 

But, at that given moment, Claire had looked so precious to him and so humane. Every façade she had; friend, surgeon, niece, daughter… they had all dropped away until she was just Claire. Just plain old, run of the mill, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. 

It felt, to Jamie, like they could have been the only two in the whole wide world. Just the two of them, and the ever changing scene of Mother Nature. 

When a jogger had passed by, a handful of minutes later, Jamie seized upon the opportunity of capturing this moment. Freezing in time, the thought process of Claire being his, and his alone.

Jamie couldn’t recall a time expressing to Claire how much he adored this photo of the two of them. She, as always, obviously knew somehow, for she’d gotten it sized and stuck into a lovely frame. 

“Do you like it?” Claire asked hopefully. 

“I love it.” Jamie kissed the side of her head, grazing the top of her ear. “Thank ye, again, my lass. Where do ye think I should put it?” 

XxX

The day progressed in a steady flow, the skyline outside becoming darker and darker by the second. 

After a slight relax and perhaps a quick post Christmas Dinner nap or two, Ellen called all hands on deck, to help with the cleaning up. 

The rubbish had been sorted into two different piles; one for the main bin and one for the recycling bin. The dirty plates, cups and cutlery had been placed inside the dishwasher. The table itself had been scrubbed down, no more signs of spilled food covering it. 

When the house gleamed and the smell of cooking had disappeared, Ellen sent everybody upstairs to get his or her comfiest clothes on ready for more lounging about. 

Jamie swore, the roaring fire made you feel sleepier by the minute and argued perhaps they should turn it off, but he couldn’t really find it within himself to open his mouth and speak. Not when he was sandwiched, happily, in Claire’s arms – watching while Maggie reverently brushed her new dolly’s hair. 

“So, that’s Christmas done for another year,” Brian mused, sitting in his favourite armchair, nursing a glass of the new whiskey Claire had purchased for him over some ice. 

“Well, there’s actually one last gift to give, before it’s all over…” Ellen said, wandering off into the hallway and coming back with something in her hands. 

Jamie propped himself up, knowing exactly what gift his Mam was on about and wanting to see Claire’s real reaction. 

It had been Jenny’s idea, in the beginning. Something to show Claire how much everyone had come to adore her in such a short space of time. How much they welcomed her home. 

“This is for ye, Claire.” Ellen placed the heavy scrapbook on Claire’s lap as gently as possible. 

As her boyfriend of a couple of months, Jamie thought he’d seen every side of Claire there was to behold. He’d seen her early in the mornings; hair all over the place. He’d seen her hung-over; bent over the toilet while she vomited her guts up. Jamie had seen every expression cross her face, one way or another. But he’d never seen her face change quite so quickly. 

Claire’s brow puckered as she looked down at the brown book Ellen had given to her. 

“For me?” She questioned, running her finger along the rough hewn edge of the cover. 

“Aye, for ye,” Jenny said. 

“Open it,” Jamie whispered to her. 

Claire glanced at him once, looking rather unsure of herself, before turning the page. 

Jamie knew what Claire would be seeing. Ellen and Jenny had done most of the hard work, sending Jamie screenshots through the group chat, of their continued progress. 

The scrapbook held pictures of the Lallybroch estate. It held pictures of Claire with the family; pulling silly faces, posing, or doing mundane things without knowing she was having her photo taken. Page after page was filled with sentimental photos of Claire and Maggie playing together on the sofa. Or, her and Wee Jamie throwing snowballs at each other. Another one showcased Claire drying the dishes while Ellen scrubbed them clean, the two women laughing their heads off at something only they thought was funny. Ian and Claire sharing a private joke, or she and Jenny gossiping over multiple glasses of gin. 

Jamie caught the sight of Claire’s lower lip trembling as she flicked through the pages heavily laden with memories. One of her hands reached up and toyed with the chain of her necklace, a nervous tic Jamie noticed, while her eyes scanned from side to side. 

“I ken we’ve welcomed ye into the family already,” Jenny explained. “But, we thought it might be bonny for ye to have a keepsake of us all. And it’s a way of including ye in the family. As ye can see, we’ve only managed to fill a couple of the pages at the beginning. That way there’s still plenty of room to fill up the extra space with future memories.” 

Claire placed with scrapbook on the sofa cushion beside her with a thump. In two, silent strides, she scooped Jenny up into a tight hug. 

“Thank you.” Claire said, pulling back to stare fully into Jenny’s face. “Truly, you’ll never know how much the gift means to me.”

“Ye’re a Fraser now, lass. Ye’re worth it.” Ellen squeezed Claire’s hand hanging down by her side. 

“Honestly, I’ve never had a sister.” Claire swallowed hard. “But, I feel like I’ve found one in you, Jenny.” 

Jenny sniffed, and Jamie saw her quickly wipe underneath her eyes. “And I’ve found one in ye, Claire. I think this means we need to schedule another cocktail night and get smashed.”

Claire nodded in agreement. “Yes, definitely.” 

Then she turned her attention to Jamie’s Mam. 

“I know I’ve always had my Uncle Lamb.” Claire sent a loving smile of her shoulder to where Lamb sat. “And I think he’ll agree with me, when I say, you’re the closest thing I’ve had to a Mother in a very long time. Well, forever really. I can’t say thank you and tell you how grateful I am, enough times, for everything you’ve done for me, Ellen.”

“There isn’t any need for ye to thank me, lass. I love ye like my own. I do for ye what I do for my other two. Now, come here and let me give ye a big squeeze.”

XxX

“Wee Jamie! Stay still, won’t ye? Ye Auntie would like a nice photo of us all!” Ian chastised his son for not cooperating, even if it was just for a second. Wee Jamie was much too preoccupied with his trucks, than he was with standing still in front of the Christmas Tree while his Grandfather set up the camera timer. 

In the end, it took a bag of fizzy sweets to make him stand still in one spot, without dancing around like he needed a wee. With the children bribed, it took a few more tried to get the perfect photo, without somebody having their eyes closed or not looking into the lens. 

Once a number of snaps had been taken, Brian showed Claire how they’d turned out. With a satisfied nod of her head, Claire deemed them suitable to be used to place inside another page of the scrapbook. Brian promised he’d get them printed out before she and Jamie left Lallybroch for their home, in a few days time. 

Jamie and Claire called it a night, when Claire yawned so widely that Jamie swore he could see her tonsils. She’d followed him, limply, up the stairs, feet heavy with every step he took. 

“Will you turn the lights off, while I get ready for bed?” Claire asked, hanging onto the doorframe of their en suite bathroom. 

Jamie promised he would. And as Claire pottered about doing her business, Jamie dimmed the lights and turned back the bed covers. 

Outside, the snow had begun to fall thickly again. Falling fast from the grey and heavy clouds. It had already managed to lie down a thin base layer, and Jamie knew if it continued at this speed, they’d be having another snow day tomorrow. So entranced by the flurry of snowfalls, Jamie didn’t hear Claire turn off the bathroom lights nor stand beside him. He jumped a tad as she slid her arm around his waist and leaned her head onto his bare shoulder. 

She caressed his ribs as she spoke. “What are you thinking about? Hm, Fraser?” 

Jamie shrugged. “Nothing much.” 

“You sure?”

Jamie looked down to meet Claire’s eyes. “Just how much I love ye.” 

Claire smiled sweetly. “And, I love you, too.”

“Ye ken I’m so in love with ye, that if there is such a thing as other lives, I’d move heaven and earth to find ye again?”

Claire held up her ruby red painted pinky finger. 

“You promise?” 

Jami hooked his thicker pinky finger through hers and shook gently. 

“Aye, I promise. I’ll always find ye, Claire, no matter what.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... that's a wrap!
> 
> What a time this last five months have been. I started this story as a fluke, something i'd come up with while lying in the garden, sunbathing. I've always wanted to be a writer, but i never felt good enough and i'd been out of practise for at least three of four years. But, the idea wouldn't leave me alone, so i wrote it down and published it while throwing my phone across the room because i was afraid nobody would read it... How silly i was!
> 
> I cannot thank you all enough for your support. You and this story have saved me in more than one way. I'm so grateful to you for reading and showing me support. Those of you who have been here since day one... well, i can't mention you all because i'd miss somebody out and then feel terrible, but you know who you are and you know how special you are to me. 
> 
> I feel ridiculously emotional about it all lol. One, because for now i'm saying see you later to these characters who have been part of my life for five months. Five hard months must i add. And two, because i finally feel like a proper writer and that's all I've ever wanted in my life. 
> 
> I'm sure this won't be goodbye, i simply can't stay away from these characters. But for now, it's a see you later! 
> 
> I will be writing for other fandoms, so if you're interested then keep your eyes peeled. There's also my tumblr; treasurethelittlethings if you want to stay in contact and see what i'm up too. 
> 
> From the bottom of my heart, thank you. For all of it. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> This is just a little plot bunny that kept me up at night and wouldn't leave me alone lol. I do have some ideas about carrying this on and making it a chaptered fic, but not exactly sure yet and i have nothing written down.
> 
> So please let me know what you think!! 
> 
> And as always, come follow me on tumblr if you fancy - my @ is the same there as it is here.
> 
> xoxo


End file.
